THE 


UNDEVELOPED  WEST; 


OB, 


NTH  OARS  IN  THE  TERRITORIES: 


IB  IE  I  ILsT  O- 

A  COMPLETE  HISTORY  OP  THAT  VAST   REGION   BE- 

TWEEK  THE  MISSISSIPPI  AND    THE  PACIFIC, 

ITS  RESOURCES,  CLIMATE,  INHABITANTS, 

NATURAL  CURIOSITIES,  ETC.,  ETC. 


LIFE   AND    ADVENTURE   ON 

PRAIRIES,  MOUNTAINS,  AND  THE  PACIFIC  COAST. 


"WITH  TWO  HUNDRED  AND  FORTY  ILLUSTRATIONS,  FROM  ORIGINAL 
SKETCHES  AND    PHOTOGRAPHIC  VIEWS  OF    THE  SCENERY, 
CITIES,  LANDS,  MINES,  PEOPLE,  AND    CURI- 
OSITIES OF  THE  GREAT  WEST. 


BY   J.   H.    BEADLE, 

WESTERN  COEBESPONDENT  OF  THE  CINCINNATI  COMMERCIAL,  AND  AUTHOB 
OF  "LIFE  IN  UTAH,"   ETC.,  ETC. 


Issued  by  subscription  only,  and  not  for  sale  in  the  book  stores.    Residents  of  any  State  desiring 
a  copy  should  address  the  Publishers,  and  an  Agent  will  call  upon  them.;  See  page  779. 


NATIONAL  PUBLISHING  COMPANY, 

PHILADELPHIA,  PA.;    CHICAGO,  ILL.;  CINCINNATI,  OHIO; 
ST.   LOUIS,  Mo. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1873,  by 

J.    R.    JONES, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington,  D.  C. 


oC 


PREFACE 


ANOTHER  book  on  the  West!  Yes,  and  why  not? 
The  West  is  the  future  home  of  millions  now  living 
in  the  East,  and  there  is  more  that  ought  to  be  known 
of  its  wonders  and  capabilities  than  is  likely  to  be 
published  by  the  few  who  have  devoted  themselves 
to  the  work.  There  ought  to  be  a  new  book  on  the 
West,  by  some  careful  observer  and  thorough  explorer, 
at  least  once  a  year ;  for  so  many  and  so  various  are 
the  changes,  so  important  the  new  discoveries,  that  a 
volume  is  but  thoroughly  read  before  the  facts  it  nar- 
rates are  old. 

The  undeveloped  portions  of  the  West  make  up  an 
immense  area,  and  no  one  can  flatter  himself  that  he 
has  thoroughly  explored  it.  The  most  that  can  be  ex- 
pected is,  that  each  traveler  shall  seize  upon  the  salient 
features  of  certain  sections  and  portray  them  to  the 
popular  mind.  No  man  can  hope  in  the  short  space 
of  five  years  to  see  all  of  the  undeveloped  West. 
Arizona  alone  deserves  years  of  careful  study,  and  New 
Mexico  is  still  almost  an  unknown  region  to  Americans, 
containing  material  for  a  vast  deal  of  investigation. 

This  work  is  simply  a  personal  record  of  my  five  years' 

15 


•10  PREFACE. 

travel  and  residence  in  the  new  States  and  Territories 
— where  I  went,  what  I  did,  what  I  saw  and  what 
I  thought  about  it.  Two  points,  however,  of  prac- 
tical interest  I  have  kept  steadily  in  view  :  to  give  care- 
fully arranged  facts  in  regard  to  the  lands  still  open 
to  settlement;  and  to  correct  a  number  of  popular 
errors  in  regard  to  soil  and  climate.  The  chapters 
treating  specifically  on  lands  in  Kansas,  Nebraska, 
Iowa,  Minnesota,  Dakota,  California,  Oregon  and  Texas, 
it  is  hoped,  will  aid  in  the  first  object;  in  regard  to 
the  second  object,  I  have  pointed  out  most  of  the  pre- 
vailing errors — to  call  them  by  no  harsher  name — found 
in  numerous  land  circulars  and  railroad  reports,  and 
refuted  them  by  a  general  statement  of  facts. 

It  was  my  prime  object  to  make  this  work  a  startling 
novelty  in  one  respect:  by  telling  the  exact  truth  about 
the  particular  points  to  which  settlers  are  most  urgently 
invited.  If  my  views  and  conclusions  on  the  Northern 
Pacific  Kailroad  lands,  and  some  other  sections,  differ 
very  greatly  from  the  reports  of  officials  and  their 
guests  heretofore  published,  the  reader  must  judge 
whether  the  difference  is  my  misfortune  or  their  fault. 
Having  stated  the  objects  of  the  work,  the  difficulties 
in  the  way  of  its  execution,  and  the  points  where  most 
criticism  may  be  expected,  I  submit  it  to  the  public 
without  further  apology.  J.  H.  B. 

EVANSVILLE,  INDIANA, 
May  15,  1873. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTEATIONS. 


1.  General  View  of  the  Yosemite  Valley Frontispiece. 

2.  The  Great  Cafion  and  Lower  Falls  of  the  Yellowstone PAGE      3 

3.  Kock  Pinnacles  above  Tower  Falls,  Yellowstone  Kiver 5 

4.  In  Camp  with  the  Outlaw  Navajoes 17 

5.  Lake — and  Mt.  Tamalpais  in  the  Distance 23"       '    f 

6.  Mormon  Tabernacle— Endowment  House  in  the  Distance 27 —  •-' 

7.  A  Basin  on  the  Columbia  Kiver — and  Mountain  Peak  in  the  Distance.  2SK  / 

8.  Down  the  Cafion 31 

9.  "Go  West,  Young  Man;  Go  West!" 34 

10.  Autograph  Letter 36 

11.  Afoot  through  Iowa 39 

12.  Outlet  of  "  Wall  Lake." 44 

13.  Doubling  Teams  in  "  Hell  Slough." 47 

14.  Crossing  the  Plains 54 

15.  Stage  Crossing  the  Desert 56 

16.  Needs  a  Haversack 57 

17.  "  Wanted :  Light  and  Genteel  Employment." 64 

18.  Omaha  City 66 

19.  Scene  Near  Fontanelle 68 

20.  Scene  Near  Papillion,  Nebraska * 76 

21.  Eiver-Depot,  Union  Pacific  K.  E.,  Omaha 80 

22.  "Dog-Town"— Union  Pacific  E.  E 83 

23.  Indians  Attacking  U.  S.  Mail  Coach 84 

24.  Pastimes  of  the  Noble  Eed  Man 86 

25.  In  the  Hands  of  the  Vigilantes 89 

26.  In  the  "Big  Tent,"  Benton,  Wyoming  Territory 91 

27.  The  Author  as  a  "  Mulewhacker." 97 

28.  Night-School  of  Theology 101 

29.  Scene  in  Echo  Canon 105 

30.  "  Eather  Open  at  the  Sides." 107 

31.  Salt  Lake  City  (From  the  North) 109 

32.  Orson  Pratt,  One  of  the  Twelve  Apostles 110 

33.  George  A.  Smith Ill 

34.  Brigham  Young 118 

2  17 


18  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

35.  First  Settler  at  Corinne PAGE  120 

36.  "  Sunday-Night  Amusements." 121 

37.  For  the  Benefit  of  Corinne 123 

38.  "Opening  a  Farm"— Platte  Valley 129 

39.  Cheyennes  Reconnoitering  the  First  Train 133 

40.  Chief  Justice  of  Wyoming 135 

41.  Pyramid  Kocks 137 

42.  Pulpit  Kock,  Echo  Canon 139 

43.  Off  for  the  Sevier  Mines 143 

44.  On  a  Family  Ticket 145 

45.  "  You  Go  Hunt  'Em ! " 147 

46.  Lake  Tahoe 155 

47.  Humboldt  Palisades * 159 

48.  On  the  Truckee— C.  P.  K.  R 161 

49.  Placer  Mining 162 

50.  Cape  Horn— C.  P.  R.  R 163 

51.  Central  Pacific  Railroad  in  the  Sierra  Nevadas 164 

52.  Interior  of  Palace-Car  on  Central  Pacific 166 

53.  Sacramento ' 168 

54.  Shoshonee  Falls— Idaho 170 

55.  Geysers,  Pluton  River,  California 172 

56.  "NoSahvey." 173 

57.  In  the  Josh  House 179 

58.  Ah  Ching's  Theology 181 

59.  Entrance  to  the  Quicksilver  Mine  of  New  Almaden,  California 182 

60.  The  Author  receives  Mormon  Hospitality 185 

61.  Orson  Hyde,  President  of  the  Twelve  Apostles 187 

62.  Domesticated  Piute 188 

63.  Bear  River  Valley— North  of  Corinne 189 

64.  "  The  Senator  is  Engaged,  Sah." 192 

65.  Brigham  Young's  Residences,  Salt  Lake  City 195 

66.  First  Hotel  in  Lawrence 200 

67.  "  Don't  Mention  it,  Deacon." 205 

68.  On  Rock  Creek— Allen  Co.,  Kansas 208 

69.  Mounds  on  the  Verdigris 212 

70.  Spouting  Geyser 215 

71.  The  Emigrant's  Dream  of  Kansas 217 

72.  Kioways  Killing  Buffalo 219 

73.  Buffalo  Plunters  in  Camp 221 

74.  Castle  Garden— the  Emigrant's  First  View  of  America 232 

75.  A  Bad  Case  of  Trichina 234 

76.  Woman's  Rights  in  Dakota 240 

77.  Any  Port  in  a  Storm 241 

78.  Approach  to  Black  Hills— Dakota 242 

79.  Winter  Camp  of  the  Friendly  Dakotahs 244 

80.  Surveyor's  Camp— Central  Dakota 246 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS.  19 

81.  Outline  of  Yosemite PAGE  252 

82.  A  Monster 253 

83.  Hydraulic  Mining 254 

84.  The  Two  Guardsmen 255 

85.  A  Cotillon  Party  Dancing  on  the  Mammoth  Tree 256 

86.  Auger-Holes  through  the  Big  Tree  (Showing  how  it  was  Felled) 258 

87.  The  Fallen  Monarch 259 

88.  The  Pioneer's  Cabin :  " Koom  for  Twelve  Inside" 260 

89.  Something  of  a  Stump 261 

90.  First  Log  Hut  in  Mariposa  Grove 262 

91.  Bridal  Veil  Fall 264 

92.  Cathedral  Kocks 268 

93.  A  Native  of  the  Valley 270 

94.  El  Capitan,  3300  Feet  High 271 

95.  Sentinel  Rock 275 

96.  The  Yosemite  Falls 276 

97.  North  Dome  and  Koyal  Arches 278 

98.  South  or  Half  Dome : 279 

99.  Mirror  Lake;  Watkins'  and  Clouds'  Best 281 

100.  Vernal  Falls ;  350  Feet  High 283 

101.  Nevada  Falls ;  700  Feet  High 285 

102.  Down  by  Vernal  Falls 286 

103.  Liberty  Cap  (Mt.  Broderick) 288 

104.  Bird's-Eye  View  of  San  Francisco 291 

105.  The  Miner  who  "Struck  it  Rich." 294 

106.  "  '49-Ers  in  Luck." 296 

107.  A  Sunday  Festival  of  the  Foreign  Classes 299 

108.  Sunday  Evening  on  Dupont  Street 301 

109.  Underground  in  the  Barbary  Coast 303 

110.  At  the  Bella  Union 305 

111.  The  First  San  Francisco  Destroyed 307 

112.  An  Anti-Goat-Island  Meeting 308 

113.  The  Days  when  California  had  no  Families 310 

114.  Woodward's  Gardens — a  Fashionable  Resort  of  San  Francisco 312 

115.  Chinese  Theatre— on  Jackson  Street. 315 

116.  Chinese  Merchant  on  Post  Street 317 

117.  Chan  Laisun 320 

118.  Mrs.  Laisun  and  Daughters 322 

119.  Chinese  Students — now  at  Springfield,  Mass 324 

120.  A  High  Caste  Mandarin 325 

121.  At  "Brown  and  SloperV' 327 

122.  Little  Pleasantries  of  a  Mining  Camp 330 

123.  Prospecting  Party— in  Utah 332 

124.  Over  to  Big  Cottonwood 337 

125.  In  the  West  Jordan  Mine 343 

126.  On  Lion  Hill— Ophir  District 345 


20  LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

127.  Vertical  Section  of  a  Quartz  Mine PAGE  347 

128.  One  Language — two  "  Smiles." 350 

129.  My  Cherokee  Friends .'. 356 

130.  "  Moss  Agates." 365 

131.  Amusements  at  Muscogee 370 

132.  Eaising  a  Native 373 

133.  At  the  Creek  Agency 375 

134.  A  Creek  Charon 379 

135.  At  the  Mission 382 

136.  "  Shorthandle." 385 

137.  Curing  Snake-Bite 389 

138.  Ok-ta-ha-sars-ha-go 391 

139.  "  On  a  Permit." 394 

140.  Pre-emptor's  Cabin 395 

141.  Lively  Times  on  the  Canadian 398 

142.  At  Tandy  Walker's 400 

143.  Forest  Scene 405 

144.  At  Widow  Skrimshee's : 407 

145.  Fight  at  Going  Snake  Court  House 410 

146    Gen.  Marion  in  the  Cherokee  Country 413 

147.  The  Last  Cry  of  the  Cherokee 416 

148.  Cherokee  Legislature 422 

149.  An  Osage  Chief 425 

150.  "Man  for  Breakfast." 435 

151.  In  the  Buffalo  Country 437 

152.  Denver 439 

153.  Gray's  Peak— Colorado 440 

154.  Georgetown — Colorado 442 

155.  First  Lesson  in  Spanish 445 

156.  "Caraja!  Los  Nervios!" 450 

157.  East  Side  of  Plaza— Santa  Fe 452 

158.  At  the  Baile..... 456 

159.  Pueblo  at  Prayer 468 

160.  A  Mexican  Dray 474 

161.  "Caramba!  Va  Maladitto." 476 

162.  Southwest  from  Santa  Fe 481 

163.  Pueblo  Cacique 483 

164.  "  My  Belations,  Sir." 485 

165.  Algodonas 487 

166.  Albuquerque  Cathedral 489 

167.  "About so  High." 492 

168.  Mexican  Farm  House 497 

169.  Pueblo  Maiden 501 

170.  Agua  Azul  and  Bed  Butte 509 

171.  Officer's  Quarters— Fort  Wingate 512 

172.  Distant  View  of  Zuni....                                                                        ..  514 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS.  21 

173.  Upper  Story  of  Zuni PAGE  516 

174.  Navajo  Loom 518 

175.  Navajo  Boy 525 

176.  Navajo  Matron 531 

177.  Navajo  "Gristmill." 533 

178.  Navajo  Belle 534 

179.  Arizona  Landscape 537 

180.  Through  the  Navajo  Forest 548 

181.  Wind  Carvings 550 

182.  Leaning  Tower 551 

183.  "  Ah-Yee !  Melicano,  Ettah  Hoganday ! " 554 

184.  Entering  the  Desert 562 

185.  "Vah!  Melicano,  Male,  Malo !" .' 564 

186.  "The  Shadow  of  a  Great  Kock  in  a  Weary  Land." 567 

187.  Sheep-Pens  at  Moqui 569 

188.  Entering  Moqui — "  Jokow,  Jokow,  Melicano,  Jokow!" 572 

189.  Northwest  Front  of  Moqui 575 

190.  Distant  View  of  Oraybe 577 

191.  Group  of  Moquis 580 

192.  Street  in  the  "  Dead  Town." 583 

193.  Tuba  and  Telashnimki 584 

194.  One  of  Six  Bronze  Plates  dug  up  near  Kinderhook,  111.,  in  1843 598 

195.  "  Break  in  the  Formation." 604 

196.  A  Friendly  Apache 607 

197.  Skull  of  Mangus  Colorado,  or  "Bed  Sleeve."— a  "Good  Indian." 608 

198.  Formation  on  the  Streams 610 

199.  Scene  on  the  Colorado 612 

200.  Peak  of  Conglomerate 616 

201.  Espanol 621 

202.  "Todos  Muertos,  P6ro  mas  Apaches." 631 

203.  Getting  Down  to  the  Colorado , 632 

204.  Mountain  Meadow  Massacre — 132  Emigrant's  killed  by  Mormons,  etc..  647 

205.  At  Jacob's  Pool 655 

206.  "Happy  Family "— Utes '. 657 

207.  Kanarra— Southern  Utah 660 

208.  Salt  Lake  Theatre , 668 

209.  Lower  Falls  of  the  Yellowstone,  Wyoming,  (350  Feet  in  Hight.) 670 

210.  On  Guard 673 

211.  Tower  Falls— Wyoming 676 

212.  Bird's-Eye  View  of  the  Geyser  Basin 679 

213.  Upper  Falls  of  the  Yellowstone 680 

214.  Yellowstone  Lake 681 

215.  The  Giantess— Yellowstone 688 

216.  The  Old  Way  Across  the  Plains 692 

217.  Monument  Kock— Echo  Canon 693 

218.  Mormon  Temple  at  Nauvoo,  Illinois 696 


22  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

219.  Nauvoo  Militia  and  "General"  Joseph  Smith PAGE  697 

220.  Trappers  in  Northern  Dakota 699 

221.  People  of  Pembina,  and  their  Ox-Carts 700 

222.  Old  Fort  Benton— Montana 702 

223.  The  Author,  being  in  Feeble  Health,  Goes  to  Minnesota 707 

224.  The  Author,  being  Feeble  in  Pocket,  Returns  from  Minnesota 708 

225.  Scene  on  a  Minnesota  Lake 712 

226.  St.  Paul 715 

227.  Falls  of  St.  Anthony 717 

228.  Missionary  among  the  Minnesota  Indians 723 

229.  N.  P.  R.  R.  Bridge  over  Mississippi,  near  Brainerd,  Minn 728 

230.  Dalles  of  the  St.  Louis 733 

231.  Duluth 735 

232.  In  the  Tunnel— Sierra  Nevada 742 

233.  Donner  Lake— Sierra  Nevada 743 

234.  Snow  Sheds  on  the  Central  Pacific 744 

235.  Acorn  Caches  of  the  California  Indians 748 

236.  "Venus  and  Adonis" — Digger  Indians 752 

237.  Rough  on  the  Old  Man 755 

238.  Falls  of  the  Willamette 760 

239.  Portland— Oregon— From  East  Side  of  Willamette 764 

240.  Street  in  Olympia— Washington  Territory. 766 

241.  Puget  Sound  and  Mt.  Rainier 768 

242.  "A  Little  Qualmish." 774 

243.  Point  Arena  Lighthouse — Coast  of  California 776 

244.  Bancroft's  great  Publishing  House — San  Francisco 777 


VBR2ITY. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

I  MAKE  A  START. 

Why  I  went  West— Poor  health—"  Infallible  cures  "— Impecuniosity— Try 
the  newspapers— Doubtful  prospects— Leave  Evansville— Stop  in  Wis- 
consin— The  Mound  Region — Boscobel — Into  Iowa — Swedes  and  Nor- 
wegians— Westward  afoot — A  model  farmer — Wire-fence  —  Planting 
timber — Resources  of  Iowa — Iowa  Falls — "Wall-Lake" — Fanciful  theo- 
ries— Scientific  fact — Fort  Dodge — Grasshoppers — A  pleasant  excursion — 
"  Purgatory"  and  "  Hell "  Sloughs — "  Bad  for  women  and  oxen" — Twin 
Lakes— Ida  City— Over  the  "  Divide  "— Denison— Down  the  C.  &  N.  W. 
R.  R.— Council  Bluffs  and  Omaha— On  the  border  at  last 33 

CHAPTER    II. 
A  COMMON  MISTAKE. 

Our  land  of  promise — Pleasing  errors — Painful  but  wholesome  truths — 
"  The  Great  American  Desert "  not  a  myth— Causes  of  sterility— Drought 
—Elevation  and  cold— Alkali— Minerals— Bitter  Creek— "  Journey  of 
Death" — Travel  on  the  Deserts — Bunch  grass — Grand  divisions  of  the 
West — View  of  the  Plains — Routes  across  the  Continent — Freighting 
under  difficulties— Railroad  and  emigration  circulars—  Caveat  emptor: 
"Let  the  buyer  look  out" 50 

CHAPTER    III. 
FIVE  WEEKS  IN  NEBRASKA. 

Omaha— Glorious  anticipations— Prosaic  facts— A  bit  of  history— Florence 
— An  invasion  of  place  hunters — Disappointment — On  the  road  to  Fon- 
tanelle — Elkhorn  Valley — Lost  on  the  prairie — "Any  port  in  a  storm  " — 
Down  to  the  Platte— Fremont— Down  Platte  Valley— Intense  heat— Want 

23 


24  CONTENTS. 

of  domestic  economy — Romantic  hash — Victuals  and  poetry — Bovine 
apotheosis — Farming  in  Nebraska — Room  for  three  hundred  thousand 
farmers — Climate — Society — "  Professional  starvation  " — Through  Sarpy 
County — Youthful  connubiality — Artificial  groves — Increase  of  rain-fall — 
Omaha  politics — "  Bilks  " — "  Hunting  for  work, — hoping  to  not  find  it "...  63 


CHAPTER    IV. 
ON  THE  UNION  PACIFIC. 

Up  the  Platte  Valley— Beauty  by  moonlight ;  barrenness  by  day— Getting 
on  to  the  desert — North  Platte — "  The  gentle  gazelle  " — "  Dog-town  " — 
Not  dogs,  but  rodents — "  Indians  ahead  " — The  dangerous  district — Cross- 
ing the  Plains  in  1866 — "  The  noble  Red  Man  " — Cheyenne — Vigorous 
reduction  of  the  population — Black  Hill — Sherman — Down  to  Laramie— 
The  Alkali  Desert— Benton— A  beautiful  summer  resort !— Manners  and 
morals  (?) — Bravery  of  the  impecunious — Murder  and  mob — Vigilantes — 
Murderer  rescued  by  the  military  and  escapes — Amusements — "  Big  Tent " 
— "  Now,  then,  gentlemen,  the  ace  is  your  winning  card" — "Cappers" 
and  Victims — No  fairness  in  gambling 79 

CHAPTER  V. 
ON  A  MULE. 

A  new  profession — Off  for  Salt  Lake  City — A  Mormon  outfit — Nature  of  the 
overland  freight — Its  extent — Great  expenses  and  enormous  profits — 
Luxury  of  miners  and  mountaineers — Changed  to  the  railroad — "  Kiting 
towns" — Jonah's  gourd — Benton  a  year  afterwards — Platte  City — Our 
company — Mulewhacker's  Theology — Pleasant  gossip  on  polygamy — 
Journal  of  the  route — Horrors  of  Bitter  Creek — Heat,  cold,  thirst,  dust, 
fatigue — Green  River — Bridger  Plains — Echo  Canon — Weber  Canon — 
Parley's  Park— Down  Parley's  Canon— Salt  Lake  Valley  and  City 96 

CHAPTER   VI. 
A  YEAR  IN  UTAH. 

Discharging  freight — "  Beautiful  Zion  " — First  impressions — "  Our  Bishop  " 
— Arguments  (?)  for  polygamy — Rough  on  Rome — Mormon  Worthies — 
Jews,  Gentiles,  and  Apostates — Queer  condition  of  American  citizens — 
"  Millennial  Star  "  and  "  Book  of  Mormon  "—The  original  carpet-baggers 
— "  Jaredites  " — Mormon  sermons — Into  the  country — A  polemic  race — 
Mormon  conference — "  No  trade  with  Gentiles  " — A  hard  winter — I  be- 
come a  Gentile  editor — Founding  of  Corinne — Glowing  anticipations — 
"  The  Chicago  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  "— Ups  and  downs  of  real  estate— 
The  Author  comes  to  grief. 108 


CONTENTS.  25 

CHAPTER  VII. 
THE  UNION  PACIFIC  COMPLETED. 

The  last  rail  and  spike — A  visit  home — An  unofficial  tour — Whitney,  Ben- 
ton,  Burton,  Fremont,  Stansbury,  Saxton,  and  Gunnison — Difficulties  of 
constructure— Where  is  the  real  starting  point  ?— Missouri  River  Bridge 
—Out  the  Platte— Fremont— Columbus — On  the  plains  again— Jules- 
burg — Smoothness  of  the  route — Delightful  traveling — Cheyenne — A 
Western  Jeffreys !— Laramie  again— A  tragedy— A  miracle,  perhaps!— 
"  Big  Ed's  "  guardian  angel— Pyramid  rocks— Beauties  of  Laramie  Plains 
— Desert  west  of  them — Wasatch — Echo  and  Weber — Promontory — Moral 
gamblers— Reflections 126 

CHAPTER  VIII, 

THE  GREAT  BASIN. 

Hunting  new  fields — Gentile  needs — Mines  or  nothing — Southward — 
Sevier  Mines — Gilmer  and  Saulsbury — Rockwell's  Ranche — The  Utah 
Basin— Will  it  be  sacred  ground?— A  family  ticket— Social  robbery- 
Chicken  Creek — "  Them  mules  is  in  the  sagebrush ;  you  go  hunt  'em !  " — 
Gunnison — Sevier  Valley — Abandoned  towns — Marysvale — Up  the  Gulch 
—Drawbacks  to  the  district— Mr.  Jacob  Hess— My  later  experience— The 
habitable  lands  of  Utah  and  Nevada— Productions— Fruits— True  policy 
with  the  State  and  Territory — "  Mormon  enterprise  " — A  silver  State — 
Sunken  deserts — Death  Valley^Mournful  reminiscence 142 

CHAPTER  IX, 
THROUGH  NEVADA. 

Out  of  a  place — A  wanderer  again — Tired  of  Utah — Westward — Promontory 
— Salty  district — Queer  calculations — Down  the  Humboldt — Elko — White 
Pine— "John  Chinamen  "—Humboldt  Canon— Desert— Reese  River— 
"  Sinks  "—Morning  at  Truckee— Beauty  of  the  Sierras— Eureka !— Don- 
ner  and  Bigler  Lakes — Western  Slope — "  Forty  miles  of  snow  sheds  " — 
Mining  towns— Cape  Horn— Sublime  scenery— Scientific  engineering— 
Swiftly  downward— Scenery  of  the  Pacific  slope— Out  upon  the  plain— 
The  California  autumn — Suburbs  of  Sacramento 153 

CHAPTER   X. 

AFOOT  IN  CALIFORNIA. 

New  Spain— Poetry  and  fact— Saxon  and  Spaniard— Cavalier  and  Pioneer— 
Our  Heroic  Age— The  American  Iliad— Sacramento— Yolo  county— 
"  Tules  "—Chinese— California  Central  R.  R.— Ague— High  and  Low 


26  CONTENTS. 

Water-marks—Chinese  and  Chinese  labor— Acclimating  sickness— Davis- 
ville — Sericulture — Warner's  Vineyard — The  land  of  grapes — Pears, 
apples,  and  figs — Up  Putah  Creek — Drouth  and  dust — The  rainy  season 
at  hand — Fruit  farms  near  the  coast  range — Ranches  only,  not  homes — 
Popular  reasons  therefor — Agricultural  items — Shall  we  settle  in  rural 
California — Chinese  "  Devil-drive  " — Mongolian  Theology — "  Josh  " — 
Blowing  up  the  Devil — Ah  Ching's  opinion — "  China  like  Melica  man  !  " 
—Off  for  "  Frisco  "....  ..  167 


CHAPTER    XI. 

UTAH  AGAIN. 

Elected  defendant— Utah  law— Polygamous  judges— Trial  at  Brigham  City 
— Assault  on  the  author — Skilful  surgery — Rapid  recovery — "  Write  a 
history  of  the  Mormons !  "—Visit  the  East— Return  to  Utah— Political- 
Bear  River  canal  scheme — Author  goes  to  Washington — Miseries  of  a 
lobbyist — Election  of  1870 — Gen.  Geo.  R.  Maxwell — Debate  on  polygamy 
— Cui  bonof — Mormon  morals  and  Gentile  associations 183 

CHAPTER   XII. 
I    START  AGAIN. 

Another  misfortune  and  change  of  scene — Kansas  City — Lawrence — Early 
tragedies — Later  horrors — Last  great  success— Southward — Ottawa — 
"  Don't  mention  it,  Deacon  "—Franklin  County — Anderson — Ozark 
Ridge — Allen  County — lola — Western  enterprise — Montgomery  County — 
Beautiful  Mounds — Cherry  vale — Northward — A  modern  Methuselah — 
Troy— Ready  to  report 197 

CHAPTER    XIII. 

STATISTICAL  KANSAS. 

Emigrants,  attention !— Topography  of  Kansas— Climate— Three  divisions- 
Amount  of  good  land — Productiveness — Figures — Fruit — Beautiful  Homes 
— Southern  border — Snakes — Local  flavoring — Bad  case  of  Trichina — The 
Kansas  farmer 216 

CHAPTER   XIV. 
A  FLYING  TRIP. 

Down  to  St.  Joseph— Up  the  Missouri  Valley— Omaha  again— Dull  times 
on  the  Missouri — Reasons  given — Off  for  Sioux  City — Up-country  people 
— Yankton— Caught  in  a  storm— Dakota— Black  Hills— Gold !  perhaps— 
Sioux— IAPE  OAHYE— Called  westward— Union  Pacific— Mormondom 
again— Over  to  "  Frisco" 235 


CONTENTS.  27 

CHAPTER    XV. 
WONDERS  OF  THE  SIERRAS. 

Off  for  Calaveras— The  route— Copperopolis— Up  the  Sierras— First  view  of 
the  Grove — Particular  trees — Emotions  excited — Route  thence  to  Yosemite 
— Table  Mountain — Bret  Harte — Terrible  descent — Into  the  Valley — A 
world  of  wonders — Fatigue  and  reflection — Description  impossible 251 

CHAPTER   XVI. 

SKETCHES  IN  SAN  FRANCISCO. 

Return  from  Yosemite — Summary  of  trip— Does  it  pay? — Climate  of  San 
Francisco— Of  the  State— Variety  in  "  Frisco  "—The  Barbary  Coast 
—Chinese  Theatre— The  Cliff  House  and  Seal  Rocks— Literature  of  the 
Pacific — Joaquin  Miller — Frances  Rose  Mackinley — Morals  and  manners 
— Excitement  and  wearing  out — An  inventive  Race — The  Chinese  again...  290 

CHAPTER    XVII. 

"  JOHN." 

Popular  nonsense  about  the  Chinese — The  bugbear  Chinaman — The  roman- 
tic Chinaman — The  real  article — His  history,  art,  music  and  drama — 
Objections  to  them  considered — Do  they  cheapen  labor? — Will  they  over- 
run the  country  ? — Do  they  degrade  labor  ? — Their  condition — Missionary 
work — Sacramento  system — Rev.  O.  Gibson — Better  specimens — Yellow 
Chinese — Mrs.  Laisun  and  daughters — Chinese  students — Hope  for  the 
race....  ..  313 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 
MINES  AND  MINING. 

A  prospect — Outline  of  mining  region — The  Cottonwoods — How  I  came 
there — Mormon  anti-mining  sermons— The  dry  summer — Unhealthfulness 
of  Salt  Lake  City — I  go  to  the  mountains — "  Prospectors  " — We  hunt  a 
mine — Mode  of  silver  mining — Different  in  gold  mining — One  chance  in 
twenty-five  thousand  for  an  "  Emma  "  or  "  Comstock  " — "  Struck  a  horse  " 
— Over  to  Big  Cottonwood — Fire  in  the  mountains— Promise  of  war  in 
Utah— False  alarm— Off  for  Bingham— Chicago  fire— Thence  to  East 
Canon — I  invest — And  come  out  minus 326 


28  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER   XIX. 

A  CHANGE  OF  BASE. 

A  hard  winter — The  last  rain — Eastward — A  merry  party — The  great  Block- 
ade— On  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  Railroad — Southwestern  Missouri — 
Among  the  Cherokees — Spring  roads — Up  into  Kansas — Meet  C.  G.  Du 
Bruler,  Esq.,  and  return — Down  to  Muscogee 348 

CHAPTER  XX. 

MUSCOKEE. 

Desperadoes — Laxity  of  Government — Out  to  the  Agency — Stirring  up  a 
rattler— "A  free  nigger  settlement  "—Creek  History— Tallahassee  Mission 
— Delightful  experiences — Creek  education — System  of  government — Back 
to  Muscogee— Reckless  shooting— State  of  the  region 369 

CHAPTER    XXI. 

OKLAHOMA. 

Railroads— The  Thirty-fifth  parallel  route— Down  to  the  Canadian— In  the 
Choctaw  Nation — Tandy  Walker,  Esq. — Secretary  Delano  visits  the  Terri- 
tory— Tramp  to  Fort  Gibson — "  White  Cherokees  "  again — An  Indian 
feud — At  Widow  Skrimshee's — "  Pikes,"  on  the  animal  migration — Tahle- 
quah — Cherokee  documents — Curious  records — History  of  the  Nation — 
Summary  of  the  Indian  Territory 396 

CHAPTER   XXII. 

AROUND  AND  ABOUT  TO  SANTA  FE. 

No  thoroughfare  from  Indian  Territory — Northward  through  Kansas — On 
the  Plains  at  Last — The  Ride  over  the  Kansas  Pacific — Ellsworth,  and  its 
Former  Felicities— In  the  Buffalo  Country— The  "  Big  Pasture"  of  Amer- 
ica—Arrival  at  Denver— "  Them's  my  Sentiments  "—The  Country  from 
Denver  to  Santa  Fe — A  case  of  Delirium  Tremens 431 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

SANTA  FE  DE  SAN  FRANCISCO. 

First  impressions — Location  of  the  city — U.  S.  officials — Learning  Spanish — 
The   Baile— Valse    da    Spachio— Mexican    Law— Religion— Children— 


CONTENTS. 


29 


Dark  vs.  white  races— Mexican  transportation— Historical— Remarkable 
journey  of  De  Vaca  and  his  companions— Expedition  of  Coronado — "  The 
seven  cities  of  Cibola ! "— "  The  American  occupation  "—Query 451 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

"  GREASERDOM." 

Off  from  Santa  Fe— La  Bajada— Rio  Grande  Valley— The  Pueblo  de  San 
Domingo — Mexican  farms— Albuquerque— Crossing  the  Rio  Grande— 
On  the  Desert— Rio  Puerco— El  Rito— "Town  of  the  Lake"— Cubero 
— McCarty's  Ranche— Murder  by  the  Navajoes— Agua  Azul — The  extinct 
volcano — Summit  of  the  Sierra  Madre— At  Wingate— My  soldier  comes  to 
grief. 479 

CHAPTER  XXV. 
AMONG  THE  NAVAJOES. 

At  Fort  Wingate— Natural  beauty— Wealth  of  nature— A  region  of  curiosi- 
ties— The  Zunis — Their  wonderful  civilization — Cation  de  Chaco — San 
Juan  ruins — On  to  Defiance — Navajo  history — Their  semi-civilization — 
Their  wars  with  the  Spaniards— American  relations— Major  Brooks'  negro 
— Navajo  War — Subjugation  and  decline— Their  return  and  progress — 
End  of  stay  at  Defiance — Sounds  of  wrath  from  Santa  Fe — Apology— An 
original  "  pome  " 511 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 
A  RIDE  THROUGH  WONDERLAND. 

Diamonds !  perhaps— Curious  stones  in  the  Navajo  country— Ready— Kind- 
ness of  Agent  Keams— Navajo  Forest— Entering  De  Chelley— The  "  Cliff 
Cities  "—An  evening  of  beauty— Out  upon  the  Desert— Water !  Water  !— 
Sickness  and  exhaustion — Navajo  doctoring — Climbing  for  water — Down 
again,  and  night-ride — Camp  at  last — "  Hah-koh  Melicano ! " — Reach 
Moqui— Curious  people— Chino  and  Misiamtenah — "  Moquis  steal 
nothing" 641 

CHAPTER    XXVII. 

THE  LAST  OF  THE  AZTECS. 

Theory  and  fact — What  I  know  about  the  Moquis — Location — Numbers 
— Dwellings — Dress — A  dinner  of  State — Dog-meat  and  a  Catholic 
stomach — Strange  dialogue  on  religion — Tuba  and  Telashnimki — Oraybe 


30  CONTENTS. 

Radicals— Further  enquiries— Division  of  the  subjects— Mounds  in  Ohio 
• — In  Mississippi  Valley — Mexico — Central  America — Peru — Theories — 
Jews,  Chinese,  Malays,  Phoenicians,  Romans,  or  Atlanteans — Modest  con- 
clusion    574 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

ARIZONA. 

A  big  country — A  strange  parallelogram — A  region  of  mountain,  canon  and 
plateau — Antiquities — Wild  Indians — Maricopas  and  other  village  Indi- 
ans— We  leave  Moqui — Nature  of  the  country — Camp  of  the  "  Outlaw 
Navajoes" — Romantic  narrations — Navajo  beauty — Their  theology — 
Fish,  turkeys,  and  human  beings — Who  are  they  ? — Their  treatment  of 
women 603 

CHAPTER   XXIX. 

DOWN  TO  THE  COLORADO. 

Diversion  from  intended  route — Summary  of  the  Thirty-fifth  parallel  route 
— Leave  the  outlaw  Navajoes — Addition  to  our  party — Our  interpreter — 
Lost  on  the  desert — An  aboriginal  joke — A  wonderful  grazing  ground — 
Battle-field  of  Apaches  and  Navajoes — Comparison  of  skulls — Reach  the 
Colorado  Canon — Sublime  sight — A  fearful  descent — Nine  hours  going 
down  hill — No  passage — Find  one  of  Major  Powell's  boats — Dexterity  of 
the  Indians — I  risk  the  passage — "  Major  Doyle  " — Indian  romance — 
Castilian  and  Navajo  tongues— Good-bye  to  my  dark  friends— Safely  over 
at  last 624 

CHAPTER    XXX. 
FIVE  HUNDRED  MILES  OF  MORMONS. 

An  astonishing  revelation—"  Major  Doyle  "  becomes  John  D.  Lee,  of  Moun- 
tain Meadow  notoriety — He  relates  his  version  of  that  affair — Comments — 
Why  verdict  "  Guilty  "—Off  for  the  settlements— Jacob's  Pool— Long, 
dry  ride— The  Pi-Utes— Into  Kanab— Jacob  Hamlin— Major  Powell's 
party— Pipe  Springs— Gould's  Ranche— Virgen  City— Toquerville— 
Kanawa— Into  the  Great  Basin— Beaver— The  "Jerky"— An  old  com- 
rade— Fillmore— "  Cutting  off  "—Staging— An  unconscious  joke— Arrival 
at  Salt  Lake  City— Surprise  of  my  friends 645 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 
MY  SUMMER  VACATION. 

Diamonds  by  the  bushel ! — My  conclusion — The  sad  fact — Off  for  Soda 
Springs — Cache  Valley — Gen.  Connor  and  the  Battle  of  Bear  River — 


CONTENTS.  31 

Soda  Mounds — Health-restoring  waters — "Anti-polygamy"  Spring — 
Wonders  of  the  Yellowstone — Report  of  Hon.  U.  P.  Langford — Return  to 
Salt  Like  City—Politics  and  Religion— Popular  absurdities  about  Utah— 
A  blast  at  Brigham  and  his  allies 669 


CHAPTER   XXXII. 
SHORT  NOTES  ON  A  LONG  EXCURSION. 

Another  ride  on  the  Union  Pacific — Down  to  St.  Louis — Up  to  Nauvoo — 
Historic  interest— A  strange  old  place— German  vintners— Beauty  of 
the  site — Through  Iowa — Southern  Dakota — Yankton  politicians — Terri- 
torial Officials — "  The  Government  cannot  afford  good  men  " — Down 
the  Missouri — An  uncertain  channel — On  the  Sioux  City  and  St.  Paul 
Road 691 

CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

MINNESOTA. 

My  stepmother— An  impecunious  youth— Trials  of  poverty— I  drive  for 
excursion  parties — Not  a  success — My  Canadian  friends — Return  home — 
Mankato — Crystal  Lake — Garden  City — The  cabin  of  my  friends — My 
old  employer— Down  to  St.  Paul— The  State  Fair— Northward  by  rail 
—Lumbermen— Big  Lake— St.  Cloud— Sauk  Rapids— Great  water-power 
— Northward  stage — The  Lady  Superior — Belle  Prairie — Converting  Indi- 
ans— We  reach  Brainerd 706 

CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

ON  THE   NORTHERN  PACIFIC. 

Brainerd— The  Pine  forests  of  Minnesota— Sioux  and  Chippewas— Pahya 
Goonsey — Detroit  Lakes — Down  to  Red  River — Moorehead — Out  to 
Jimtown— Red  River  Valley—"  The  equinoctial  storm"— Eastward  again 
— Russian  Quakers — Scandinavian  settlers — Scenery  on  the  St.  Louis — 
Duluth — Emigration  Companies — "POST  OFF" — Humbug  of  land  cir- 
culars—Climate on  the  Northern  Pacific— "  Be  not  deceived  "—The 
testimony  experience  of  A.  Toponce,  Esq. — Comments 724 

CHAPTER   XXXV. 
THE  WAY  TO  OREGON. 

Westward  again — Iowa — Union  Pacific — Utah — Central  Pacific — Sacra- 
mento— California  and  Oregon  Railroad — Chico — General  Bidwell's 


32  CONTENTS. 

Ranche — Semi-Tropical  Fruits  and  Flowers— Reading— Shasta— Joaquin 
Miller— Shasta  Indians—"  Venus  and  Adonis  "—Staging  on  the  Sierras 
—Mount  Shasta— Yreka— Frontier  justice— Immense  Forests — Oregon- 
Rogue  River— Umpqua— Willamette — Portland 741 


CHAPTER   XXXVI. 
IN  CONCLUSION. 

Season  too  late — Washington  Territory — "  Good-bye,  Jonah  " — Down  the 
Willamette— In  the  Columbia— A  fog— Salmon  fisheries— Strange  instincts 
of  the  salmon— On  the  heaving  ocean—"  The  first  to  fell  "—Down  below 
— "  Just  a  little  qualmish  " — Philosophy  on  the  subject — Smoother  water 
— "  On  an  even  keel " — Arrival  at  Frisco — Bancroft  &  Co. — Homeward 
bound....  ..  767 


DOWN  THE  CANON. 


UNDEVELOPED  WEST; 

OR, 

FIVE    YEARS    IN    THE    TERRITORIES. 


CHAPTER    I. 

I    MAKE   A   START. 

Why  I  went  West— Poor  health—"  Infallible  cures  "— Impecuniosity — Try  the 
newspapers— Doubtful  prospects— Leave  E vans ville— Stop  in  Wisconsin— 
The  Mound  Region — Boscobel — Into  Iowa — Swedes  and  Norwegians — West- 
ward afoot — A  model  farmer — Wire-fence — Planting  timber — Resources  of 
jowa — Iowa  Falls — "  Wall-Lake  " — Fanciful  theories — Scientific  fact — Fort 
Dodge — Grasshoppers — A  pleasant  excursion — "  Purgatory  "  and  "  Hell " 
Sloughs — "  Bad  for  women  and  oxen" — Twin  Lakes — Ida  City — Over  the  "  Di- 
vide "— Denison— Down  the  C.  &  N.  W.  R.  R.— Council  Bluffs  and  Omaha— 
On  the  border  at  last. 

ANUARY,  1868,  found  me  an  invalid  in  the  goodly  city 
of  Evansville.  A  bronchical  difficulty,  produced  ten 
years  before  by  severe  application  to  study,  had  in  a 
year  of  army  life  developed  to  a  confirmed  asthma;  and 
now,  in  the  moist  and  enervating  climate  of  Southern 
Indiana,  I  was  shaken  by  an  ominous  graveyard  cough,  the 
heaviness  of  a  mother  and  the  despair  of  friends  and  creditors. 
I  tried  fifty  remedies  :  cubebs,  troches,  caramels,  hoarhound  con- 
fections were  my  hourly  refreshment ;  a  score  of  nasty  syrups 
in  villainous  green  bottles  adorned  my  mantel;  pastilles  smoked 
upon  my  stove,  and  my  chamber  was  redolent  with  the  fumes 
of  burning  nitre. 

My  friends  sympathized  and  suggested :  one  had  heard  his 
grandmother  say  she  never  knew  a  tea  made  of  chestnut  leaves 
to  fail  in  such  cases,  if  taken  in  time;  another  quoted  an  equally 
venerable  source  in  favor  of  bloodroot  and  whiskey,  with  snuff 

of  powdered  galingale  ;  a  third  had  all  confidence  in  the  regular 

300 
oo 


34 


POPULAR   ADVICE. 


"GO   WEST,   YOUNG  MAN;    GO  WEST  !  " 

school,  while  a  military  friend  just  from  Texas  contented  him- 
self with  the  cheerful  suggestion,  "  My  boy,  the  angels  have 
taken  a  fancy  for  you ;  try  a  southern  climate."  If  there  is 
anything  worse  than  dying  of  consumption,  it  must  be  the 
reception  of  the  advice  prevalent  on  the  subject. 

The  general  voice  ran  in  favor  of  travel.  One  thought  a  sea- 
voyage  a  dead  sure  thing;  another  was  enthusiastic  for  Florida, 
and  a  third  was  positive  the  Lake  Region  would  straighten 
me  out.  In  a  multitude  of  counsellors,  n  On -professional,  there 
was  anything  but  safety.  My  physician,  watch  in  one  hand, 
the  other  on  my  pulse,  looked  solemnly  wise  and  thus  pro- 
nounced :  "  Go  west,  young  man ;  go  west."  I  went  west. 


THE   WAYS    AND    MEANS.  35 

There  was  one  little  difficulty  in  the  way  of  all  these  fine 
schemes  advanced  for  my  rejuvenation  :  I  was  impecunious. 
Young  lawyers  are  not  generally  troubled  with  filthy  lucre,  and 
I  had  been  in  practice  but  one  year,  and  out  of  health  most  of 
the  time.  After  selling  books  and  paying  debts  I  had  remain- 
ing a  hundred  and  fifteen  dollars  on  which  to  reach  the  Pacific 
Coast — for  there  my  physician  thought  was  the  Hesperian  foun- 
tain which  was  to  make  me  a  new  man.  Manifestly  if  I  ever 
reached  it,  economy  was  to  be,  not  exactly  a  virtue,  but  some- 
thing not  nearly  so  heroic — a  necessity.  Newspaper  correspon- 
dence suggested  itself  to  my  mind  as  a  last  resort.  What 
wandering  scholar,  poor  teacher,  or  feeble  professional  has  not 
thought  of  it  as  the  way  to  health-restoring  travel,  or  the 
glories  of  a  foreign  tour  ? 

I  wrote  a  carefully  worded  proposition  to  six  leading  journals. 
Two  replied.  The  Head  Quill  of  the  Indianapolis  Journal 
briefly  declined,  adding,  somewhat  superfluously,  that  there  were 
at  least  a  dozen  applicants  to  each  vacancy,  and  Western  corre- 
spondence was  just  now  of  no  particular  value.  Murat  Hal- 
stead,  Esq.,  of  the  Cincinnati  Commercial,  (May  his  shadow 
never  grow  less!)  answered  thus,  literatim  et  punctuatim:  (Fac 
simile  on  next  page.)  I  trust  the  reader  may  decipher  these 
hieroglyphics  with  more  ease  and  less  of  doubt  and  trepidation 
than  I  did.  Through  their  jagged  lines  gleamed  a  ray  of  hope; 
and  on  this  hint  I  wrote.  I  also  made  arrangements  with  the 
Evansville  Journal,  to  practise  a  few  weeks  through  their 
columns  until  I  became  more  proficient  with  the  pen,  thinking 
that  it  was  best  my  first  effusions  should  be  read  only  by  friends 
and  acquaintances — a  common  error  with  beginners.  For  criti- 
cism, to  be  of  any  value,  must  come  from  strangers.  One's 
friends  will  always  praise  his  writings,  though  never  so  flat; 
and  one's  enemies  say  something  spiteful  though  he  speak  with 
the  tongue  of  men  and  angels. 

My  plan  was  to  work  through  to  California  during  the  good 
weather,  remain  there  one  winter,  and  work  back  home  the  next 
summer,  after  an  absence  of  about  eighteen  months ;  and  by 
no  means  to  settle  in  the  Far  West  I  came  about  as  near  to 


OFFICE     OF    THE 

A 


f 


FOURTH   AND    RACE  STREETS. 


LEAVING   HOME.  37 

filling  this  schedule  as  young  men  generally  do  to  working  out 
their  plans.  It  is  necessary  to  have  plans,  but  it  is  morally 
certain  no  man  will  ever  realize  them  exactly.  The  precise 
thing  one  intends  is  about  the  only  thing  which  never  occurs, 
and  of  the  great  expectations  of  glowing  youth  we  may  philo- 
sophize as  did  the  Hibernian  over  his  dressed  pig :  "  It  didn't 
weigh  half  as  much  as  I  expected,  an',  be  japers,  I  always 
knowed  it  wouldn't." 

All  sad  farewells  over,  I  was  off  from  Evansville  on  the  8th 
of  May.  It  is  seldom  pleasant  to  start,  no  matter  what  enjoy- 
ment one  looks  forward  to ;  and  the  oldest  travelers  generally 
leave  "  winter  quarters  "  with  a  feeling  of  despondency.  De 
Quincy  says :  "  We  never  do  a  thing  consciously  for  the  last 
time  without  a  feeling  of  sadness;  we  never  take  final  leave  of 
a  place — even  where  we  have  not  been  happy — without  a  sigh." 
And  the  experience  of  all  Bohemians  confirms  this  truth.  Per- 
haps the  inner  sense  sees  by  a  divine  instinct  that  all  these 
occasional  partings  are  but  faint  types  of  the  last  great  parting, 
and  sighs  its  regret  by  anticipation.  Perhaps  the  soul  feels  in 
these  minor  departures  that  a  great  departure  is  not  far  distant, 
and  intuitively  warns  man  of  his  destiny.  I  had  uncommon 
cause  for  despondency.  Hitherto  my  journeys,  though  long, 
had  been  no  farther  from  civilization  than  western  Kansas  and 
Minnesota ;  post  offices,  stage  roads,  and  even  railroads  were 
not  far  distant,  and  though  I  "dragged  at  each  remove  a 
lengthening  chain,"  it  was  still  a  chain  connecting  me  by  suc- 
cessive links  with  home.  But  now,  with  feeble  health  and  feebler 
pocket,  I  was  to  pass  beyond  the  border,  and  across  the  central 
wild  to  where  civilization 

"  Shifting,  turns  the  other  way." 

It  is  not  surprising  then  that  a  suspicious  moisture  gathered 
in  my  eye,  as  from  the  rear  of  the  train  I  waved  my  adieus  to 
the  receding  city. 

After  a  week  in  Northern  Indiana,  and  three  days  at  the  Na- 
tional Republican  Convention  in  Chicago,  I  left  that  city  for 
Wisconsin  by  the  Chicago  and  Northwestern  Railway.  I  had 
gained  on  the  season  ;  the  coolness  of  early  spring  still  prevailed 


38  WISCONSIN. 

in  this  higher  latitude,  and  I  took  a  delightful  rest  of  a  week  at 
Boscobel,  in  the  valley  of  the  lower  Wisconsin.  This  is  the 
centre  of  the  "Mound  Region"  of  Wisconsin— so  called  from 
the  many  Indian  mounds  scattered  about  the  valley.  Some  are 
circular,  some  oval,  and  one  in  the  edge  of  the  town  is  in  the  exact 
form  of  a  Greek  cross,  the  longer  piece  a  hundred  feet  in  length. 
None  of  these  are  more  than  four  or  five  feet  high,  and  the 
earth  of  which  they  are  composed  is  different  from  the  adjacent 
soil.  Most  of  the  original  mounds  have  been  removed  in  the 
process  of  settlement :  some  contained  human  remains,  some 
implements  of  war  and  husbandry;  but  the  most  cpnsisted 
entirely  of  earth  and  decayed  grass  or  straw.  Of  some  the 
earth  was  so  fertile  that  the  people  of  Boscobel  used  it  for 
enriching  their  gardens. 

North  of  the  river  are  larger  and  more  extensive  quadrangu- 
lar mounds,  evidently  intended  as  a  fortification,  and  command- 
ing a  bend  in  the  stream.  Twenty-five  miles  south  are  the 
"  Great  Mounds  of  the  Platte,"  two  moles  of  earth  and  rock, 
about  half  a  mile  in  length,  rising  abrujftly  to  a  height  of  sixty 
feet  from  a  level  plain.  But  these  are  evidently  of  geologic 
origin.  Boscobel  is  far  enough  north  to  be  a  pleasant  summer 
resort;  the  climate  is  healthful,  and  just  north  of  the  Wiscon- 
sin game  of  many  kinds  is  abundant,  The  prairie,  spangled 
with  the  myriad  flowers  of  advancing  spring,  allured  me  to 
numerous  excursions;  the  bracing  air  from  the  Minnesota  hills 
brought  healing  to  my  lungs,  and  I  soon  felt  the  exquisite  joys  of 
convalescence.  Tourists  who  cannot  aiford  to  go  to  the  "  Far 
West"  may  find  here,  and  in  the  neighboring  parts  of  Iowa 
and  Minnesota,  a  pleasant  and  healthful  summer  residence. 

On  the  first  of  June  I  crossed  the  Mississippi  from  Prairie 
Du  Chien*  to  McGregor,  and  started  afoot  across  Northern 
Iowa,  judging  that  the  walk  of  three  hundred  miles  would 
toughen  me  a  little  before  encountering  the  real  hardships  of  the 
plains.  Of  the  next  four  days  my  recollections  are  of  slow 


* "  Prairie  of  The  Dog.'1 — An  Indian  chief  who  dominated  this  region 
centuries  ago. 


THROUGH   IOWA. 


39 


sauntering  over  a  beautiful  rolling  country,  prairie  and  timber 
intermingled,  and  rather  thickly  settled  with  a  thrifty  and  intel- 
ligent population. 

Iowa  and  Minnesota  were  doubtless  settled  by  the  most 
generally  educated  class  of  emigrants  of  any  part  of  the  West ; 
and  I  seem  to  be  going  into  civilization  rather  than  from  it. 
Occasional  colonies  of 
Swedes  and  Norwegians 
are  found  in  both  States, 
and  exhibit  a  rapid  im- 
provement. Nine  years 
before,  during  a  summer 
residence  in  Minnesota, 
I  had  witnessed  the  colo- 
nies coming  in,  direct 
from  Scandinavia,  and 
often  smiled  at  their 
uncouth  and  poverty- 
stricken  appearance. 
Now  they  are  there,  as 
in  Iowa,  among  the 
wealthiest  people  in  the 
country;  their  national 
industry  has  raised  them 
from  poverty  to  opu- 
lence. Afterwards  I  saw 
people  of  the  same  races 
in  Utah,  by  the  most 
exhaustive  labor  a  little 
better  off  than  they  had 
been  at  home,  and  heard 
them  boasting  what  great  things  "  the  Lord  and  Brother  Brig- 
ham  had  done  for  them."  These  in  Iowa  had  no  Prophet, 
and  consequently  made  a  good  selection  for  their  homes,  and 
prospered  without  being  tithed. 

At  the   end  of   a    week  I  was  but  eighty  miles  from  the 
river,  but   the   general   appearance   of  the   country  began   to 


AFOOT  THROUGH    IOWA. 


40  ON   THE  PRAIRIE. 

change  rapidly.  There  were  immense  tracts  of  unsettled 
prairie ;  timber  was  found  only  along  the  streams,  and  I  soon 
learned  to  dread  it  on  account  of  the  heat.  On  the  "bottoms" 
of  Big  Wapsie  Creek,  in  Bremer  County,  was  dense  timber  for 
ten  miles — the  last  complete  forest  I  was  to  see  for  a  year ;  and 
I  almost  melted  in  passing  through  it.  On  the  prairie  there  is 
nearly  always  a  gentle  and  refreshing  wind ;  in  the  timber  a 
sultry  and  oppressive  calm.  To  leave  the  first  for  the  second 
was  like  going  from  balmy  May  into  sultry  July.  In  my 
prairie  travels  I  never  saw  a  farmer's  wife  who  had  tried  both, 
who  did  not  prefer  the  prairie  to  the  timber,  despite  the  intense 
cold  of  winter.  Sometimes,  they  admitted,  when  the  ther- 
mometer was  below  zero,  and  the  wind  humming  from  the 
northwest  at  twenty  miles  per  hour,  they  sighed  for  the  leeward 
side  of  tall  timber ;  but  for  ten  months  in  the  year,  give  them 
the  prairie.  "  We  can  house  up,  you  know,  and  keep  warm  on 
the  prairie  in  winter  ;  but  we  can't  house  up  and  keep  cool  in 
the  timber  in  summer." 

Westward  I  began  to  toughen  to  my  work,  and  on  the  8th 
and  9th  of  June  easily  made  my  twenty  miles  a  day.  Over- 
taken on  the  open  prairie  by  a  storm,  late  in  the  afternoon  of 
the  9th,  I  traveled  nine  miles  in  the  rain  to  the  first  house, 
finding  the  settler  like  myself  a  retired  professional,  "out  West 
for  his  health."  Three  years  before  he  had  paid  seven  dollars 
an  acre  for  a  quarter  section  of  land,  put  a  wire  fence  around 
forty  acres  of  it,  broke  the  sod  and  sowed  it  in  wheat,  which 
yielded  twenty-two  bushels  per  acre,  and  sold  at  a  dollar  and  a 
quarter  per  bushel.  He  produced  his  "  farm-books,"  which 
showed  that,  estimating  his  wire-fence  and  breaking  sod  at  the 
highest  rate,  his  first  crop  had  paid  for  land,  fence,  and  break- 
ing, and  a  slight  percentage  of  profit.  Vacant  lands  in  that 
and  the  adjoining  counties  were  selling  everywhere  from  three 
to  fifteen  dollars  per  acre,  according  to  locality. 

Wire  fences  were  the  only  kind  in  use  in  this  vicinity. 
Many  farmers  used  but  three  strands,  but  a  "lawful  fence" 
required  five,  which,  the  local  courts  consider,  will  make  it 
"  horse-high,  bull-strong,  and  pig-tight."  Many  plant  trees 


UNOCCUPIED   LANDS.  41 

for  posts,  using  "slip  cleats,"  that  the  wires  may  be  moved 
every  year  or  two  on  the  growing  tree.  An  artificial  grove  is 
found  on  nearly  every  farm,  mostly  of  the  soft  maple  and  cot- 
ton wood  ;  but  a  few  have  planted  harder  varieties  of  timber. 
The  State  exempts  from  taxation  all  land  so  planted ;  the  trees 
grow  rapidly,  and  in  twenty  years  Northern  Iowa  will  be  a 
timbered  country. 

Iowa  has  less  waste  land  than  any  other  State  in  the  Union. 
The  sloughs,  though  rated  as  non-cultivable  land,  are  sus- 
ceptible of  drainage ;  and  with  the  exception  of  a  little  rocky 
and  sandy  land  along  the  streams,  every  foot  of  the  State  is 
available  for  the  support  of  man. 

Despite  the  national  spirit  of  self-glorification,  and  the  bril- 
liant apostrophes  of  "  Western  members,"  how  few  Americans 
realize  the  comparative  greatness  of  that  tier  of  States  just  west 
of  the  Mississippi.  Minnesota  has  thirty  thousand  square  miles 
of  wheat-producing  land;  Iowa  has  more  arable  land  than  Eng- 
land proper,  and  not  quite  one  acre  in  a  hundred  non-productive ; 
Missouri  has  more  iron,  coal,  timber  and  water-power  than  the 
Kingdom  of  Prussia,  and  Arkansas  will  nearly  equal  the  King- 
dom of  Italy. 

Taking  St.  Louis  as  a  centre,  with  a  radius  of  three  hundred 
miles,  and  describing  a  semicircle  on  the  west,  from  the  Missis- 
sippi above  to  the  same  stream  below,  and  the  area  thus  bounded, 
if  cultivated  like  rural  England,  would  supply  food  for  fifty 
million  people.  Really  America  is  not  yet  "settled,"  except, 
perhaps,  a  narrow  strip  along  the  Atlantic.  St.  Louis,  with  her 
western  rail  connections,  is  the  natural  entrepot  of  a  section  that 
will  comfortably  support  a  population  equal  to  that  of  the  Rus- 
sian Empire.  We  are  lost  in  a  maze  of  conjecture  when  we 
attempt  to  figure  to  ourselves  the  future  American,  as  he  will 
be  when  all  that  region  is  thickly  settled,  dotted  with  towns 
and  villages,  with  perhaps  a  score  of  great  cities. 

I  journeyed  on  west-southwest  to  Iowa  Falls,  a  city  of  romantic 
location,  with  a  foundation  partly  of  rock,  at  a  point  where  the 
Iowa  River  leaves  the  "summit-divide"  prairies,  and  plunges 
down  by  a  series  of  cascades  to  the  level  of  the  lower  valley.  There 


42  AN    IOWA    WONDER. 

is  unlimited  water-power  in  the  vicinity,  and  an  important  city- 
is  springing  up  rapidly.  It  was  then  the  terminus  of  the 
Dubuque  and  Sioux  City  Hailroad,  and  indulged  in  bright 
dreams  of  future  greatness.  The  inhabitants  I  found  to  be  of 
the  genus  Western  Yankee,  willing  to  take  a  stranger  in  and 
do  him.  Accordingly  I  did  not  tarry  long,  and  on  the  morn- 
ing of  June  18th,  took  passage  in  a  settler's  wagon,  to  visit  the 
celebrated  "  Wall  Lake,"  which  was  reported  afar  off  as  the 
great  wonder  of  Iowa. 

For  many  years  fanciful  writers  had  given  us  glowing 
accounts  of  a  wonderful  lake,  surrounded  by  a  compact  wall 
of  boulders  and  earth,  with  a  beautiful  drive  on  top,  along 
which  the  Jehus  of  a  "departed  race"  exercised  their  elk  and 
buffalo  teams  in  driving  tandem.  I  reached  the  lake  at  dusk, 
having  walked  ten  miles  from  the  main  stage  road.  The  only 
inhabitant  of  the  township  lived  on  the  border  of  the  lake, 
monarch  of  all  he  surveyed,  and  evidently  willing  to  have 
nobody  live  any  nearer.  The  land  was  his,  and  the  water  and 
the  cattle  on  a  thousand  sloughs ;  but  he  cared  nothing  for  the 
natural  beauty  at  his  door,  had  no  boat  on  the  lake,  and  only 
granted  me  lodging  because  it  was  evident  there  was  no  other 
chance.  North,  west,  and  south  of  the  lake  the  country  is 
marshy  for  several  miles,  but  on  the  east  rises  a  beautiful 
wooded  ridge,  in  the  edge  of  which  the  settler  lives. 

Only  the  western  and  southern  borders  of  the  lake  have  a 
regular  wall;  the  bank  on  the  east  is  bold  and  abrupt,  and  on 
the  north  the  lake  yields  gradually  to  an  extended  marsh.  At 
the  extreme  southern  point,  a  clearly  defined  rocky  wall  breaks 
down  by  almost  regular  steps  to  a  "  wasteway,"  through  which 
runs  a  considerable  stream  continuing  eastward  to  the  Iowa 
River.  From  this  outlet  for  half  a  mile  northwest  is  the  only 
part  of  the  wall  which  has  any  appearance  of  human  handi- 
work :  it  is  six  feet  high,  three  feet  wide  on  top,  and  very  com- 
pactly built  of  rock  and  earth.  The  outer  side  is  quite  steep, 
but  within  it  slopes  away  gradually  to  the  water's  edge,  for 
several  rods,  beautifully  adorned  with  grass  and  flowers.  But 
even  there  a  careful  examination  shows  no  regular  masonry; 
all  is  in  elemental,  not  mechanical  order. 


ICE-BUILT    WALLS.  43 

Science  has  clearly  demonstrated  that  these  walls  are  not  the 
work  of  the  Red  Man,  nor  yet  of  his  possible  predecessor,  the 
Mound  Builder;  they  are  due  merely  to  the  expansive  force 
of  ice.  Geologists  are  agreed  that  the  lakes  of  this  region 
date  back  to  the  close  of  the  "Glacial  Epoch,"  remaining  as 
then  mere  depressions  in  the  "drift"  which  formed  the  soil. 
The  "Lake  Region" — whether  in  New  York,  Minnesota  or 
Iowa — is  always  found  on  the  "summit-level."  Farther  down 
•there  were  lakes  once,  but  the  drainage  from  higher  ground 
running  down  the  slope  has  cut  channels  far  below  their  old 
beds  and  drained  them.  In  Southern  Iowa  the  careful  eye 
can  still  see  traces  of  ancient  lake  shores;  but  away  up  the 
bluffs,  often  fifty  feet  above  the  present  surface  of  the  river.  On 
the  "  summit  level,"  there  was  no  such  accumulation  of  water  on 
higher  ground  to  force  a  way  through  the  lakes  and  drain  them, 
and  they  remain  as  at  first.  In  this  climate  ice  often  forms  on 
them  many  feet  in  thickness.  In  1863  this  lake  froze  almost 
solid,  killing  most  of  the  fish.  Freezing  to  everything  with 
which  it  comes  in  contact,  boulders,  earth,  and  rushes,  the  ice 
continually  cleans  the  bottom  of  the  lake  and  piles  the  materials 
at  the  edge.  The  expansive  force  of  miles  of  miles  of  ice  is 
exerted  upon  the  rocks  in  a  direction  from  the  centre  towards 
the  shore ;  and  so  powerfully  that  on  the  eastern  side,  where 
the  bank  is  abrupt,  the  flat  stones  are  in  many  places  driven 
in  upon  the  boulders  with  such  an  impetus  as  to  splinter  the 
former  like  glass.  Each  year  this  process  is  repeated,  the  lake 
rising  to  the  height  of  the  wall  formed  the  previous  year,  and 
adding  new  materials  thereto ;  and  this  process  continues  till 
the  loose  material  is  exhausted,  or  the  lake  waters  force  an  out- 
let, as  this  has  done  at  the  south  end. 

That  this  theory  is  correct,  is  clearly  proved  by  the  existence 
of  fifteen  other  lakes  in  this  and  adjoining  counties  with  a 
similar  formation,  of  which  Lake  Gertrude,  Lake  Cornelia, 
Twin  Lake,  and  Little  Wall  Lake  have  even  more  perfect 
walls  than  this.  In  some,  the  water  has  gradually  cut  down 
the  outlet,  and  drained  the  lake  until  a  new  wall  has  begun  to 
form  inside  the  old  ones.  Swans  and  wild  geese  abound  on  all 


44 


EAGLE   CREEK. 


OUTLET  OF  "WALL  LAKE." 

t 

the  lakes.  The  entire  region  is  well  worthy  of  a  visit  by  tour- 
ists or  artists,  and  surely  no  reflecting  mind  will  feel  less  inter- 
est in  the  "  Wall  Lake"  from  knowing  that  it  is  not  the  work 
of  a  u departed  race,"  but  a  natural  result  of  forces  which  have 
been  in  operation  since  the  hour  when  "The  morning  stars  sang 
together." 

After  a  day  at  "Wall  Lake"  I  turned  westward,  traversing 
an  unbroken  prairie  for  fourteen  miles  to  Eagle  Creek.  There 
I  found  six  families  scattered  along  the  stream  for  two  miles  ; 
for  in  all  this  part  of  Iowa  the  only  settlers  were  found  near 
the  streams  or  lakes  where  there  was  timber.  Everybody  was 


GRASSHOPPERS.  45 

on  the  qui  vive  about  the  grasshoppers,  which  were  reported  to 
be  coming  from  the  west.  Next  day,  in  the  twenty-five  miles 
to  Fort  Dodge,  I  passed  through  three  swarms  of  them,  each 
about  half  a  mile  wide.  Where  I  stopped  for  dinner  the  farmer  sat 
the  picture  of  dejection,  while  his  wife  and  daughter  were  weep- 
ing and  wringing  their  hands.  Their  farm  lay  directly  in  the 
path  of  the  destroyers,  and  going  with  them  to  the  field  of 
wheat,  now  turning  yellow  for  the  harvest,  I  saw  the  insects 
pouring  into  it  from  the  north  by  millions,  with  an  ominous 
roar.  Before  them  were  green  prairies  and  yellow  fields  of 
grain  ;  behind  them  blackness,  desolation  and  death.  At  Fort 
Dodge,  and  for  a  day's  travel  west  of  there,  I  saw  them  in  new 
swarms,  now  grown  larger  and  flying  high  in  the  air,  glistening 
in  the  sun  like  bits  of  white  and  yellow  paper.  Thence  I  saw 
them  no  more,  and  afterwards  learned  that  their  "  visitation" 
was  but  partial,  destroying  about  half  the  crop  in  three  counties. 

Whence  come  they  ?  Where  do  they  breed  ?  Whither  do 
they  go?  Nobody  knows  certainly.  In  Iowa  and  Minnesota 
they  are  generally  supposed  to  originate  in  the  wastes  of  North- 
ern Dakota,  but  the  only  reason  I  know  of  for  this  opinion  is 
that  they  come  generally  from  the  northwest.  In  the  last 
named  State  they  came  in  August  and  September  in  1856, 
and  destroyed  about  half  the  crop ;  the  next  year,  as  soon  as 
the  weather  grew  warm,  they  seemed  to  spring  suddenly 
from  the  ground  in  myriads,  and  chew  away  on  the  first 
thing  they  reached.  Not  a  spear  of  grass  or  wheat,  or  a  blade 
of  corn  escaped;  and  when  I  was  there,  in  1859,  Minnesota 
had  her  celebrated  "  hard  times."  Every  Western  State  and 
Territory  has  had  them  at  first.  But  settlement  certainly  has 
some  effect  on  them,  as  their  visits  grow  gradually  less  frequent, 
and  are  less  destructive  when  they  do  occur. 

West  of  Fort  Dodge  I  fell  in  with  a  party  of  five,  journey- 
ing with  wagon  and  tent  to  Sioux  City,  and  on  invitation  cast 
in  my  lot  with  them.  We  traveled  but  fifteen  miles  or  so  a 
day,  hunted  and  fished  and  lived  on  the  proceeds,  slept  in  the 
wagon  and  tent,  and  had  all  outdoors  to  cook,  eat  and  breathe 
in.  For  a  hundred  miles  on  our  way,  we  passed  perhaps  ten 


46 

houses ;  the  general  characteristics  everywhere  the  same.  Down 
a  long  slope  for  seven  or  eight  miles,  the  road  would  bring  us 
to  a  creek  or  slough,  along  which  would  be  a  scattering  growth 
of  timber;  and  about  "one  farm  deep"  on  each  side  fenced  in. 
From  this  valley  we  would  rise  by  gentle  inclines  to  the  next 
"divide,"  five  or  ten  miles  of  gently  rolling  prairie;  then 
down  another  slope  to  the  next  slough,  or  creek,  and  consequent 
settlement,  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  from  the  last.  At  one  place 
we  traversed  twenty-five  miles  without  sight  of  a  house.  Far 
as  the  eye  could  pierce  the  green  and  waving  grass,  now  full 
grown,  made  the  country  appear  a  very  paradise  of  herders ; 
and  daily  my  ideas  of  vastness  enlarged  till  I  wondered  where 
the  people  were  to  come  from  to  cultivate  these  fertile  fields. 
Then  there  was  but  one  railroad  across  Iowa ;  now  there  are 
four,  all  stimulated  by  the  completion  of  the  Union  Pacific.  It 
had  just  been  made  public  that  the  Dubuque  and  Sioux  City 
Railroad  was  to  be  completed  soon,  and  the  wave  of  immigration 
was  rolling  in.  Two  years  after,  the  road  was  completed,  and 
already  the  line  I  traveled  presents  a  succession  of  cultivated 
fields  and  tasty  homes,  a  region  diversified  with  orchards,  white 
and  red  with  clover  tops,  or  yellow  with  heavy-headed  grain. 
Then  Iowa  had  one  acre  in  seventeen  under  cultivation ;  now 
she  has  one  in  twelve,  and  a  population  of  nearly  a  million  and 
three  quarters.  The  State  will  easily  support  fifteen  million 
people  by  agriculture  alone. 

The  sloughs  grew  steadily  worse  as  we  proceeded  westward, 
and  were  bridged  but  slightly  or  not  at  all.  We  passed  "  Pur- 
gatory" safely,  but  mired  and  stuck  in  "Hell" — two  very  bad 
sloughs  near  Sac  City.  We  stripped  in  the  wagon,  got  out  into 
mud  and  water  waist-deep,  and  by  an  hour's  hard  work  got  over 
safely.  Not  so  fortunate  were  a  party  of  Norwegians  just  be- 
hind us,  bound  for  Dakota,  who  stuck  in  the  worst  place.  We 
"  doubled  teams  "  and  worked  with  them  two  hours,  but  having 
horses  while  they  had  oxen,  could  do  them  little  good.  Our 
stoutest  man  went  in  and  carried  their  women  and  children  to 
dry  land,  and  we  left  them  in  statu  quo — women  and  children  cry- 
ing, men  shouting,  swearing,  and  beating  their  oxen,  all  in  choice 


47 


48  A   THIRTY-FIVE-MILE   WALK. 

Norwegian.  Doubtless  they  had  to  carry  out  their  entire  load, 
bundle  at  a  time,  and  take  the  wagon  to  pieces.  Well  saith  tho 
border  proverb,  "  Western  travel  is  rough  on  women  and  oxen." 

At  Ida  City,  still  fifty  miles  east  of  Sioux  City,  I  parted 
company  with  the  excursionists,  determined  to  travel  southward 
to  Omaha.  Ida  City  consisted  of  one  house,  blacksmith's  shop, 
and  accompanying  stables  and  outhouses.  Thence  it  was  thirty- 
five  miles  over  the  "divide"  to  Denison,  on  the  Chicago  & 
Northwestern  Road ;  and,  as  there  were  no  houses  on  the  way, 
I  must  make  the  distance  in  one  day.  After  a  day's  rest,  with 
"  cold  bite  "  in  valise,  and  canteen  of  water,  I  bore  southward 
over  the  hills ;  for  the  ridges  gradually  rise  higher  as  one  goes 
towards  the  Missouri. 

It  was  the  27th  of  June,  and  the  heat  was  intense.  Water  I 
found  but  once  on  the  road,  and  suffered  considerably  from  thirst. 
It  is  cold  enough  in  winter.  The  preceding  one  five  persons 
had  frozen  to  death  on  this  route,  having  lost  their  way  in  sud- 
den snow  storms. 

Twenty-eight  miles  on  my  way  I  found  two  new  dwellings 
erected  in  a  beautiful  valley,  where  two  brothers  had  just  moved 
their  families  and  opened  a  stock  farm.  This  was  a  delightful 
surprise,  and  at  this  arcadia  I  rested  till  sundown  and  took 
supper,  then  finished  my  journey  in  the  cool  of  the  evening.  By 
half  past  nine  I  had  finished  my  walk  of  thirty-five  miles  with- 
out serious  fatigue,  nor  did  I  feel  any  ill  consequences  next  day. 
Not  bad  for  an  invalid.  I  felt  that  I  was  ready  for  the  plains, 
and  taking  the  midnight  train  entered  Omaha  early  on  Sunday 
morning  the  28th. 

The  place  had  been  represented  to  me  as  a  paradise  for  the 
enterprising,  but  first  impressions  did  not  confirm  the  idea.  A 
furious  rivalry  raged  between  the  city  and  Council  Bluffs  on 
the  eastern  side  of  the  Missouri ;  pretty  much  in  the  "You're 
another ! "  style  of  argument.  Omaha  people  spoke  of  the 
Bluffs  as  "  East  Omaha,"  "  Milkville  "  and  "  Iowa-town  ;  "  the 
Bluffites  retorted  with  sarcastic  remarks  about  "Bilkville," 
"Traintown,"  and  the  "Union  Pacific  Depot  over  the  river." 
The  Omahas  assured  me  that  the  Bluffs  were  overrun  by  people 


OMAHA    VS.  THE    BLUFFS.  49 

out  of  employment ;  that  there  were  ten  lawyers  to  every  case, 
doctors  till  no  one  could  count  them,  and  so  impecunious  that 
when  a  man  once  fell  on  Main  Street  and  broke  his  leg  they 
rushed  up  in  such  numbers,  and  made  such  contest  over  the 
patient,  that  the  mayor  was  compelled  to  read  the  Riot  Act.  I 
soon  found,  as  a  faithful  chronicler,  that,  like  Herod  Otus,  fami- 
liarly known  as  "History's  Dad,"  I  must  carefully  distinguish 
between  what  I  saw  and  what  I  heard.  The  Western  mind  is 
expansive  and  generous;  full  measure  is  what  they  always  give 
in  local  history.  I  think  it  must  be  in  the  air;  that  men  breath- 
ing this  light,  dry  and  health  inspiring  atmosphere,  like  the 
Dolphian  priestess,  go  mad  in  poloquent  fury,  and  talk  in  strains 
of  poetic  exaggeration. 

Therefore,  before  I  go  far  enough  West  to  catch  the  same 
disease,  I  will  indulge  in  one  chapter  of  hard,  prosaic  fact.  As 
I  have  now  reached  the  border  of  the  Far  West  proper,  a 
general  description  of  the  whole  country  beyond  the  Missouri 
will  better  enable  the  reader  to  understand  the  next  four  years 
wandering.  The  facts  are  collated  from  observations  in  fifty 
thousand  miles  of  travel,  from  the  reports  of  personal  friends 
in  whom  I  repose  confidence,  from  official  surveys,  and  other  ac- 
credited sources.  Many  facts  in  a  limited  space  being  my  chief 
object,  the  reader  who  is  bent  only  upon  amusement  may  skip 
the  following  chapter. 
4 


CHAPTER    II. 

A   COMMON   MISTAKE. 

Our  land  of  promise — Pleasing  errors — Painful  but  wholesome  truths — "  The 
Great  American  Desert"  not  a  myth— Causes  of  sterility— Drought — Eleva- 
tion and  cold — Alkali — Minerals — Bitter  Creek — "  Journey  of  Death" — Travel 
on  the  Deserts  -Bunch  grass — Grand  divisions  of  the  West — View  of  the 
Plains  — Routes  across  the  continent — Freighting  under  difficulties — Railroad 
and  emigration  circulars — Caveat  emptor  :  "  Let  the  buyer  look  out." 

C? 

J)/iTHE  "Far  West"  is  the  land  of  promise  to  ten  million 

young  Americans;  but  of  all  those  who  go  West,  nine 
out  of  ten  go  just  far  enough  to  form  an  erroneous  idea 
of  all  beyond.  They  visit  eastern  Kansas  and  Nebraska, 
and  traverse  the  fertile  strip  which  extends  from  one  to 
two  hundred  miles  west  of  the  Missouri — the  only  part  of  the 
entire  West  which  answers  to  the  rosy  views  of  the  expectant 
pilgrim.  There  they  find  the  rich  bottom  lands,  the  green 
rolling  prairies  and  fertile  vales  of  political  romance;  and  it  is 
that  region,  perhaps  two  hundred  by  twelve  hundred  miles 
in  extent,  intermediate  between  the  Missouri  line  and  the 
high  plains,  which  is  taken  as  the  basis  of  comparison  by  the 
hopeful  visitor,  who  imagines  that  with  the  exception  of  a  fe\v 
mountain  chains  it  is  much  the  same  all  the  way  to  the  Pacific. 
It  is  difficult  to  convince  such  that  in  the  West  are  regions  of 
utter  desert  so  vast  that  a  New  England  State  might  be  hidden 
in  them,  and  only  pass  for  a  respectable  oasis. 

Any  route  across  the  continent  must  traverse  a  complete 
desert  from  five  hundred  to  a  thousand  miles  wide.  The  Union 
Pacific  enters  upon  it  about  Laramie,  and  with  the  exception 
of  Salt  Lake  Valley,  and  perhaps  two  or  three  others,  con- 
tinues in  it  all  the  way  to  the  Sierras.  The  Northern  Pacific 
strikes  it  at  the  Mauvaises  Terres  of  Dakota,  and  thence  bar- 
50 


THE   AMERICAN    DESERT.  51 

renness  is  the  rule  and  fertility  the  exception  to  the  entering  in 
of  Washington  Territory.  The  Southern  and  thirty-fifth  par- 
allel roads  strike  it  in  western  Texas  or  at  the  Rio  Grande,  and 
traverse  it  to  Southern  California. 

Draw  a  line  on  longitude  100°  from  British  America  to 
Texas;  then  go  800  miles  westward,  and  draw  another  from 
British  America  to  Mexico,  and  all  the  area  between  these  two 
lines — 800  by  1200  miles  in  extent;  or  in  round  numbers  a 
million  square  miles — is  the  "American  Desert:"  a  region  of 
varying  mountain,  desert  and  rock;  of  prevailing  drought  or 
complete  sterility,  broken  rarely  by  fertile  valleys;  of  dead 
volcanoes  and  sandy  wastes;  of  excessive  chemicals,  dust, 
gravel  and  other  inorganic  matter.  Only  the  lower  valleys, 
bordering  perennial  streams,  or  more  rarely  some  plateau  on 
which  water  can  be  brought  from  the  mountains  for  irrigation, 
or  still  more  rarely  a  green  plat  in  some  corner  of  the  mountains 
where  there  is  an  unusual  amount  of  rain,  or  percolation  of  moist- 
ure from  above,  constitute  the  cultivable  lands;  all  the  rest  is 
rugged  mountain,  rocky  flat,  gravel  bed,  barren  ridge  scantily 
clothed  with  sage  brush,  greasewood  or  bunch  grass,  or  complete 
desert — the  last  covering  at  least  one-third  of  the  entire  region. 

The  causes  of  these  deserts  may  be  summed  up  under  four 
heads : 

I.  Drought. 

II.  Elevation  and  consequent  cold. 

III.  Excess  of  inorganic  matter,  as  rock,  gravel,  etc. 

IV.  Excess  of  chemicals,   such  as  soda,  alkali   and   plant- 
destroying  salts. 

Generally  more  than  one,  and  often  all,  of  these  causes  com- 
bine; but  for  the  convenient  reference  of  the  reader  I  will  con- 
sider them  in  their  order: 

I. 

Drought  is  the  prevailing  characteristic  of  all  the  country  far 
west  of  the  Missouri — increasing  westward  from  that  river  till 
one  has  crossed  to  the  Pacific  slope.  The  causes  of  this  west- 
ward increasing  aridity  are  found  in  the  greater  elevation,  the 


TTWTV] 


52  A    IJTTI..E   SCIENCE. 

trend  of  the  mountains  and  the  direction  of  the  prevailing 
winds.  Look  upon  the  map  of  the  eastern  hemisphere,  and 
observe  the  alternations  of  desert  and  fertility  between  the 
parallels  of  20°  and  30°  north,  and  note  that  the  desert 
steadily  increases  as  we  go  westward.  The  causes  briefly 
stated  are  these :  The  clouds,  surcharged  with  moisture  from 
the  Pacific,  are  carried  by  the  prevailing  winds  over  China 
and  Anam,  with  abundant  showers;  they  are  wrung  dry,  so  to 
speak,  in  passing  the  high  Himalayas,  and  float  over  southern 
Persia  and  Afghanistan  without  discharge.  They  gather  again 
a  little  moisture  from  the  Persian  Gulf,  and  hence  there  is  rain 
a  little  way  inland  in  Arabia;  a  little  more  water  is  obtained 
from  the  Red  Sea,  and  light  showers  sometimes  fall  in  Egypt, 
whence  they  sweep  over  the  whole  length  of  the  Sahara  with- 
out a  fertilizing  shower.  Thence  across  the  Atlantic,  loaded 
with  moisture,  the  clouds  yield  immense  rains  upon  the  next 
intervening  continent,  producing  the  dense  jungles  and  luxu- 
riant vegetation  of  tropical  America.  In  like  manner  the  sum- 
mer winds  from  the  Pacific  send  in  upon  California  heavy 
mists,  which  are  caught  and  .condensed  by  the  Coast  Range, 
whence  the  valleys  opening  toward  the  west  are  green  through- 
out the  year.  Between  the  Coast  Range  and  the  Sierra  Neva- 
das  the  great  interior  valley  of  California  has  rain  in  winter 
only  when  the  moisture  is  wafted  from  the  south,  and  east  of 
that  range  the  Great  Basin  is  nearly  all  a  complete  desert,  the 
rim  of  the  inclosing  mountains  admitting  only  the  clouds  of 
highest  range  and  least  moisture  from  the  south.  Between 
that  and  Kansas  still  interposes  the  loftiest  range  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  more  completely  shutting  off  the  summer  clouds 
and  leaving  all  that  elevated  region,  for  three  hundred  miles 
east  of  the  mountains,  to  depend  upon  the  uncertain  chance  of 
winter  snows,  upon  southeast  winds  and  the  percolation  of 
moisture  from  higher  basins  and  mountain  hollows.  Progress- 
ing thence  eastward,  we  come  more  and  more  within  the  range 
of  winds  from  the  Gulf,  and  more  into  a  region  of  moisture. 
Hence  all  Western  Kansas,  Nebraska,  and  Dakota  must  suffer 
from  frequent  droughts,  and  the  region  as  far  east  as  West- 
ern Iowa  and  Minnesota  occasionally  from  the  same  cause. 


HIGH    AND    DRY.  53 

II. 

The  general  elevation  of  the  Great  West  would  alone  render 
much  of  it  unfit  for  agriculture.  Let  us  for  illustration 
take  the  Platte  Valley  and  general  line  of  the  Union  Pacific. 
Omaha  is  nine  hundred  and  sixty-six,  and  Cheyenne  nearly 
six  thousand  feet  above  sea-level ;  and  through  this  long  ride 
of  five  hundred  and  sixteen  miles  there  is  a  gentle  and  -almost 
continuous  up  grade,  averaging  ten  feet  to  the  mile.  In  no 
place  does  it  exceed  thirty  feet,  while  in  two  places  it  sinks  to  a 
level,  and  on  two  short  distances  there  is  a  down  grade :  the 
first  on  entering  the  Platte  Valley  from  the  hills  just  west 
of  Omaha,  and  the  second  from  Archer,  a  few  miles  east  of 
Cheyenne,  down  into  Crow  Creek  Valley. 

From  a  car  window  one  may  note  a  curious  though  very 
gradual  and  almost  imperceptible  change  in  soil  and  climate, 
and  consequently  in  landscape  and  natural  productions.  Four 
hundred  miles  west  of  Omaha  we  find  a  high,  dry  country,  for 
the  most  part  fit  only  for  pasturage,  where  frost  may  be  looked 
for  any  month  in  the  year. 

Wyoming  contains  97,000  square  miles,  and  not  a  foot  of 
land  less  than  4000  feet  high.  Colorado  has  about  the  average 
elevation  of  Wyoming,  Denver  being  nearly  on  the  level  of 
Cheyenne.  Manifestly  the  high  plains  of  these  two  Territories 
can  never  be  of  value  except  for  grazing.  Utah,  as  reduced, 
contains  over  60,000  square  miles;  but,  except  possibly  a  few 
of  the  sunken  deserts  of  the  south,  the  lowest  valley  is  higher 
than  the  average  summit  of  the  Allegheny  Mountains,  the  sur- 
face of  the  Salt  Lake  being  4250  feet  above  the  sea.  Of  the 
121,210  square  miles  in  New  Mexico,  all  are  upwards  of  3000 
feet  above  the  sea,  except  some  small  portions  of  the  plains  east 
of  the  Rocky  Range,  and  the  lower  part  of  the  Rio  Grande 
valley.  All  of  the  Territory  west  of  that  river  rises  in  a  series 
of  lofty  plateaus,  and  Santa  Fe,  the  capital,  is  so  high  that  its 
summer  temperature  is  about  that  of  Quebec.  Nevada  has  the 
same  general  level  as  Utah,  but  its  principal  towns  are  much 
higher  than  those  of  the  latter,  having  been  built  by  miners 


COLD   SUMMERS. 


CROSSING    THE  PLAINS. 


instead  of  agriculturists;  and  the  smallest  number  of  its  citizens 
can  find  fertile  land  enough  for  a  garden.  With  98,000  square 
milas  the  State  has  ab.out  as  much  good  land  as  three  average 
counties  in  Ohio. 

Even  in  the  most  elevated  regions  considerable  tracts  are 
found  with  every  element  of  fertility,  but  yielding  only  grass, 
every  attempt  to  raise  grain  having  failed.  In  Parley's  Park, 
in  the  Wasatch  Mountains,  Heber  Kimball  cultivated  wheat 
for  several  years ;  it  was  in  the  flower  by  the  first  of  September, 
and  was  cut  off  by  the  first  frost.  At  Soda  Springs,  Idaho,  the 
"  Morrisite  "  Mormons  tried  for  many  years  to  raise  crops,  and 
only  succeeded,  and  that  but  poorly,  with  potatoes;  they  then 
turned  their  attention  to  cattle  raising,  in  which  they  prospered. 
At  the  Navajo  farms — in  Arizona — I  have  seen  icicles  six 
inches  long  on  the  rocks,  only  300  feet  above  the  fields,  on  the 
18th  of  June;  and  in  1871,  when  the  Indians  had  with  great 
labor  brought  forward  a  crop  of  corn,  and  planted  young  orchards, 
on  the  night  of  May  31st  a  storm  of  sleet  froze  every  plant 


ALKALI.  5f> 

and  tree  solid  to  the  ground.  A  similar  experience  has  followed 
the  attempt  to  cultivate  tiie  soil  in  most  of  these  high  localities; 
and  if  there  were  no  other  causes,  elevation  alone  would  render 
half  the  Far  West  unfit  for  the  farmer.  Nor  is  this  a  difficulty 
that  can  be  overcome  by  any  art  of  man.  Those  who  talk  so 
glibly  of  the  reclamation  of  waste  lands  in  the  West  must  wait 
until  nature  flattens  out  the  country,  and  brings  it  down  into 
the  region  of  warmer  air,  and  more  abundant  moisture.  Provi- 
dence seemingly  did  not  intend  that  farming  should  be  the 
leading  interest  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  region ;  its  true  wealth 
is  to  be  found  in  mining  and  grazing. 

III. 

Of  barrenness  caused  simply  by  lack  of  soil  little  need  be  said. 
I  have  traveled  for  days  together  over  ridges  of  gravel,  or  tra- 
versed hundreds  of  miles  with  a  basis  of  little  more  than  solid 
rock,  or  with  barely  soil  enough  for  scrubby  growths  of  pine; 
and  generally  throughout  the  Rocky  Mountains,  instead  of 
being  green  as  are  the  slopes  of  the  Alleghenies,  all  the  steeps 
are  gray  and  bare.  From  the  summit  of  the  Sierra  Mad  re  in 
New  Mexico,  400  miles  westward,  I  saw  no  other  rock  than 
sandstone,  which,  disintegrating  and  blowing  down  upon  tho 
valleys,  was  slowly  covering  the  fields  of  the  "lost  race"  and 
obliterating  what  little  fertility  remained. 

IV. 

ALKALI  is  the  popular  name  applied  everywhere  in  the 
West  to  that  bi-carbonate  which  whitens  thousands  of  square 
miles  of  the  interior  plains  between  the  Black  Hills  and  the 
Sierras.  East  of  the  former  it  is  often  seen  in  quantity  suffi- 
cient to  appear  like  hoar  frost  upon  the  grass,  or  render  barren 
a  small  plat  of  ground;  but  farther  west  it  lies  in  vast  beds,  or 
mingled  with  the  soil  in  such  quantities  as  to  poison  the  water, 
and  destroy  all  vegetation.  Gazing  from  a  car  window  on  the 
Union  Pacific,  somewhere  not  far  west  of  the  Platte  crossing, 
the  traveler  is  surprised  to  see  flour  or  very  white  ashes,  as  he 
supposes,  sowed  in  streaks  and  patches  along  the  ground ;  and 


56 


WHITE   DESERTS. 


STAGE   CROSSING   THE   DESERT. 

here  and  there  in  the  fertile  soil  of  the  valleys  a  pale  purple 
streak  on  the  ground,  completely  bare  of  grass,  shows  the  pre- 
sence of  alkali.  But  west  of  Medicine  Bow  one  finds  it  in  the 
mass:  for  miles  the  country  is  of  a  dirty  white  complexion,  and 
in  dry  weather  the  irritating  dust  powders  the  traveler  till  all 
races  are  of  one  hue.  Where  the  trace  is  very  slight,  it  can  be 
"  worked  out  "by  cultivation ;  but  in  general  it  destroys  all 
plants  except  the  hardy  greasewood  and  sagebrush. 

For  sixty  miles  on  Bitter  Creek,  Wyoming,  the  soil  is  a  mass 
of  clay,  or  sand,  and  alkali — a  horrible  and  irreclaimable  desert 
which  has  made  the  place  a  byword.  Nearly  a  hundred  miles 


THE   GREAT   BASIN. 


57 


square  of  southern  Idaho  consists  of  a  vast  alkali  plain,  crossed 
only  by  stage  routes;  and  in  Nevada  and  Utah  a  single  desert 
of  "sand  and  soda"  covers  30,000  square  miles.  Similar  tracts 
are  found  in  all  the  territories,  notably  the  Jornada  del  Muerlo, 
or  "Journey  of  Death,"  in  New  Mexico,  the  "white  desert"  of 
Arizona,  the  "forty  mile  desert,"  of  almost  pure  alkali,  in 
Wyoming,  the  Salt  Lake  desert — 5000  square  miles  of  sand, 
salt  and  alkali — and  the  central  desert  or  basin  of  Nevada,  in 
which  are  "  lost"  the  Hurnboldt,  Carson,  Truckee,  and  Reese 
rivers,  and  a  hundred  smaller  streams.  On  the  stage  routes 
across  such  tracts  the  animals  labor  through  a  cloud  of  dust 
and  the  coach  drags  heavily,  the  wheels  often  causing  a  dis- 
agreeable "cry"  in  the  sand  and  soda,  while  the  passengers 
endure  as  best  they  can  the  irritation  to  eye  and  nostril,  and  the 
slime  formed  upon  the  person  by  dust  and  sweat.  This  pene- 
trating alkaline  dust  sifts  in  at  the  smallest  crevice,  and  even 
the  clothing  in  a  close  valise  is  often  covered  with  it. 

Salt  is  another  ele- 
ment destructive  to 
vegetation,  but  found 
in  such  excess  only  in 
the  Great  Basin.  Just 
west  of  the  Great  Salt 
Lake  is  a  tract  of 
some  five  or  six 
thousand  square  miles, 
which  presents  the 
general  appearance  of 
a  dried  salt  marsh ;  the  subsoil  is  of  sand  and  hard  clay, 
mingled  with  flint  and  gravel,  while  the  surface  in  the  dry 
season  dazzles  and  torments  the  eye  with  the  glisten  of  salt  and 
alkali.  The  Pacific  Railway  runs  just  north  of  this  tract,  and 
the  old  stage  road  crossed  the  narrowest  part  of  it.  For  seventy 
miles  water  is  found  in  but  one  place,  by  digging;  and  in 
popular  local  phrase,  "  A  jack-rabbit  can't  cross  it  without  a 
haversack,  while  an  immigrant  crow  sheds  tears  at  the  sight." 

So  much  for  the  bad  features  of  the  Great  West :  let  us  now 


NEEDS  A  HAVERSACK. 


58  BUNCH-GRASS. 

consider  what  there  may  be  of  value  in  such  a  country.  First 
to  be  noted  among  the  redeeming  features  is  the  growth  of 
bunch-grass,  which  is  found  in  patches  over  a  country  at  least 
a  thousand  miles  square.  Bunch-grass  chiefly  differs  from  the 
verdure  of  the  East  in  that  it  never  forms  a  continuous  sod  or 
green  sward;  it  grows  in  scattered  clumps,  six  or  eight  to  the 
square  rod,  or  thicker  where  the  locality  is  favorable.  One  can 
span  a  bunch  at  the  roots,  but  above  it  spreads;  sometimes 
several  bunches  grow  so  as  to  form  a  clump  a  foot  wide.  It  is 
never  of  a  deep  green,  and  for  three-quarters  of  the  year  is  a 
regular  gray-brown  ;  hence  an  Eastern  man  might  ride  all  day 
through  rich  pastures  of  it,  and  think  himself  in  a  complete 
desert.  It  gets  its  entire  growth  in  about  six  weeks,  some- 
time between  January  and  July  according  to  the  locality.  It 
then  cures  upon  the  ground,  and  stands  through  the  year  look- 
ing very  much  like  bunches  of  broomsedge.  It  is  as  nutritious 
as  ripe  oats,  the  species  with  a  white  top,  containing  a  small 
black  seed,  being  particularly  fattening.  With  it  animals  make 
journeys  of  a  thousand  miles  without  an  ounce  of  grain ;  with- 
out it,  nine- tenths  of  America  between  meridians  100°  and 
120,°  would  be  totally  worthless. 

Probably  the  most  disappointing  feature  in  Rocky  Mountain 
scenery,  to  all  new  comers,  is  the  absence  of  a  green  landscape; 
for  with  rare  exceptions  the  traveler's  eye  does  not  rest  in  sum- 
mer upon  an  unvarying  carpet  of  green  as  in  the  East.  The 
bunch-grass  is  a  pale  green,  or  quite  gray  or  yellow;  the  small 
sage-brush  is  white,  and  the  large  variety  blue,  the  greasewood 
is  a  dirty  white,  and  the  earth  and  rocks  white,  yellow  or  red  ; 
hence  the  result  is  a  neutral  gray,  which  seems  to  shroud  all 
creation  in  sober  tints.  One  may  ride  all  day  through  good 
bunch-grass  pasture  and  his  horse  be  walking  in  sand  all  the 
time ;  or  through  a  tolerably  rich  country  and  never  see  an  acre 
of  that  lively  emerald  which  is  the  charm  of  an  Ohio  landscape. 
A  plat  of  green  sward  is  a  rare  sight  in  the  Rocky  Mountains; 
but  eastward,  on  the  high  plains,  other  grasses  appear,  changing 
by  slow  degrees  to  the  heavy  verdure  of  the  Missouri  Valley. 

But  the  true  wealth  of  all  that  country  is  in  its  minerals.     It 


DIVISIONS   OF   THE    WEST.  59 

is  ray  belief  that  there  is  not  a  range  in  the  Rocky  Mountains 
in  which  paying  minerals  cannot  be  funnel  somewhere.  Every 
year  valuable  mines  are  discovered  in  places  which  had  been 
given  up  as  hopeless  by  men  of  science.  Four  years  ago 
there  was  scarcely  one  in  a  hundred  who  believed  in  the 
mineral  wealth  of  Utah;  now  her  developed  mines  are  worth 
$25,000,000.  With  more  experience,  more  thorough  prospect- 
ing, and  improved  modes  of  working,  every  part  of  that  vast 
region  will  be  found  rich  in  some  kind  of  minerals. 

The  agricultural  wealth  of  the  country  has  been  vastly  over- 
rated; its  mineral  wealth  equally  underrated.  Two  or  three 
more  railroads  across  the  continent  are  needed,  to  transport 
machinery  and  supplies,  and  then  we  can  say  that  our  mineral 
development  has  begun;  what  has  been  done  will  appear  as 
nothing. 

Of  timber  all  the  West  east  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  has  barely 
enough  to  supply  local  necessity ;  of  the  immense  forests  on 
that  range  I  will  treat  in  the  proper  place. 

The  Great  West  falls  naturally  into  five  grand  divisions: 

1.  The  Plains. 

2.  The  Rocky  Mountains. 

3.  The  Colorado  Basin. 

4.  The  Great  Basin — also  known  as  Fremont's  and  the  In- 
terior Basin. 

5.  The  Pacific  Slope. 

The  term  "plains"'  is  often,  improperly,  applied  to  the  whole 
country  between  the  Missouri  and  the  Pacific;  it  belongs  only 
to  that  vast  inclined  plane  stretching  from  the  river,  from  four 
to  six  hundred  miles,  to  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  and  extend- 
ing from  Texas  far  into  British  America.  Ascending  this 
gentle  grade  anywhere  between  parallels  35°  and  45°,  nearly 
the  same  general  features  are  observable.  Let  the  traveler 
start  at  the  eastern  border  and  go  westward,  on  any  section 
line,  he  will  for  fifty  miles  traverse  a  region  rich  in  all  the 
elements  of  plant  growth;  the  bottoms  of  inexhaustible  fer- 
tility, the  slopes  equal  to  the  Miami  Valley,  and  the  ridges 
generally  good  for  wheat,  and  always  most  excellent  pasture. 


60  THE   HIGH    PLAINS. 

Along  the  streams  is  found  a  heavy  growth  of  elm,  walnut, 
hackberry  and  cottonwood ;  on  the  slopes  and  in  the  valleys, 
dense  grass,  almost  the  height  of  man,  and  over  all  the  ridges, 
rich  prairie  grasses  mingled  with  a  few  other  plants,  and  beauti- 
fully varied  by  thousands  of  bright-hued  flowers,  mingling  the 
colors  of  the  temperate  and  semi-tropical  regions.  Westward 
up  the  streams  we  first  notice  a  disappearance  of  the  forest 
growth ;  the  timber  shrinks  to  a  mere  fringe  along  the  water's 
edge,  or  to  stunted  and  gnarled  bushes,  contending  feebly  for 
life  against  increasing  drought  and  annually  recurring  prairie 
fires.  Walnut  and  ash  disappear,  and  of  large  timber  we  find  only 
the  cottonwood,  box-elder  and  willow.  A  hundred  miles  out, 
west  of  the  Neosho  or  near  the  Verdigris,  a  marked  change  is 
observable;  only  the  valleys  are  first  class  land;  the  slopes  are 
but  medium,  and  the  ridges  full  of  rock  and  yielding  scant 
grass.  Fifty  miles  farther,  on  the  slopes  and  ridges  verdure  in 
its  strict  meaning  disappears ;  buffalo  grass  and  gama  grass 
take  its  place,  and  these  show  a  tendency  to  bunch  together, 
leaving  large  portions  of  the  surface  bare.  The  land  rises  into 
long  ridges  stretching  away  swell  on  swell  as  far  as  the  eye 
can  reach — as  if  a  heaving  ocean  had  suddenly  become  firm, 
fixed  earth — and  immense  pampas  spread  away,  alternating 
flint  and  gravel  with  strips  of  wiry,  curly  grass,  or,  at  long 
intervals,  a  protected  growth  of  stunted  shrubs.  The  bright 
flowers  of  the  lower  valley  disappear ;  those  that  remain  appear 
to  have  lost  color  and  odor;  the  blue  larkspur  alone  retains  its 
brightness ;  the  wild  sunflower  and  yellow  saffron  become  dust- 
hued  and  dwarfish,  while  milkweed  and  resinweed  sustain  a 
sort  of  dying  life,  and  cling  with  a  sickly  hold  to  the  harsh  and 
forbidding  soil.  Still  the  immediate  valleys  are  rich ;  still 
occasional  depressions  or  oval  vales  along  the  streams  contain  a 
few  thousand  acres  of  fertility,  and  half  or  more  of  the  upland 
furnishes  scant  pasturage.  The  traveler,  after  toiling  for  hours 
over  half-barren  ridges,  stunted  grass-plats,  or  acres  of  bare 
gray  rock  or  dead  clay,  finds  his  road  leading  down  to  some 
stream,  and  from  a  rocky  point  beholds  spreading  for  miles  an 
oasis,  beautiful  by  nature  and  delightful  by  comparison,  watered 


DIFFICULTIES    OF   TRAVEL.  61 

by  a  clear  stream,  bordered  by  rich  meadows,  and  marking  the 
course  of  a  long  and  narrow  tongue  of  rich  land. 

Here  are  the  buffalo  and  antelope;  all  settlements  are  far 
behind,  and  the  plains  in  all  their  vastness  are  around  us. 
Three  hundred  miles  out  and  we  are  on  the  Great  American 
Desert;  it  exists,  all  doubts  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding, 
though  more  than  half  of  its  surface  east  of  the  mountains  is  of 
some  value  for  grazing.  Now  appear  depressed  basins,  and 
valleys  with  vast  patches  of  white  saline  matter  dried  upon  the 
soil;  short  stunted  grass,  half-white  with  salt,  saline  plants 
resembling  many  upon  the  seashore,  and  vast  flats  and  marshes, 
drying  in  the  summer  to  beds  of  stifling  dust.  Travel  over 
the  high  country  with  teams  is  there  an  impossibility.  We 
must  follow  some  stream  for  grass  and  water,  and  hence  from 
time  immemorial,  aborigine,  trapper,  and  emigrant  have  had 
three  great  routes  across  the  plains — the  Platte  Valley,  the 
Smoky  Hill,  and  the  Arkansas  routes.  The  aborigine  adopted 
these  routes  from  the  buffalo ;  the  hunter  followed  the  Indian ; 
the  emigrant  was  piloted  by  the  hunter,  and  on  the  last  two 
lines  following  came  the  railroads,  obedient  to  the  same  neces- 
sities for  water  and  a  smooth  route. 

Leaving  these  narrow  routes  as  we  approach  the  mountains, 
we  find  foothills  and  ridges  extending  far  eastward  on  the 
plains,  cut  by  narrow  gullies  hundreds  of  feet  in  depth,  with 
perpendicular  sides — a  series  of  covered  ways,  equal  to  the  best 
devised  by  military  skill,  admirable  hiding  places  and  lines 
of  approach  for  marauding  Kiowas  or  murderous  Arrapahoes. 
Between  the  streams  which  create  and  mark  out  the  lines  of 
travel,  extend  broken  ridges,  crossed  by  the  traveler  only  on 
low  "  divides,"  where  the  demands  of  commerce  have  made  a 
crossing  an  imperative  necessity.  There  the  discouraged  team- 
ster contends  equally  with  heat*,  thirst,  and  fatigue;  grows  old 
before  his  time  in  an  unequal  struggle  with  nature ;  toils  over 
stony  ridges  destitute  of  grass  and  water,  or  labors  through 
beds  of  noxious  alkali,  rising  in  ever  wind-obeying  clouds  to 
excoriate  his  nostrils,  weaken  his  eyes,  or  embitter  the  scant 
streams  which  are  his  only  resource. 


62  SOME   GOOD   LAND. 

Toiling  through  this  last  and  worst  stage  of  the  plains  the 
traveler  enters  among  the  foothills  and  first  valleys  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  and  finds  renewed  signs  of  fertility,  but  of  a 
totally  different  kind  from  that  along  the  Missouri.  But  we 
leave  a  full  description  of  the  other  divisions  of  the  West  until 
we  reach  them  in  the  course  of  travel. 

Let  not  the  reader  hastily  conclude  that  there  is  no  good 
land  in  all  the  region  I  have  outlined.  There  is  considerable 
in  scattered  patches,  though  I  have  been  more  particular  in 
describing  the  bad.  The  object  of  this  chapter  is  to  tell  what 
you  will  not  otherwise  learn.  The  good  land  you  will  cer- 
tainly hear  of  from  the  magnificent  circulars  of  railroad  and 
emigration  companies. 


CHAPTER   III. 

FIVE   WEEKS   IN   NEBRASKA, 

Omaha  —  Glorious  anticipitations  —  Prosaic  facts  —  A  bit  of  history  —  Florence  — 
An  invasion  of  place  hunters  —  Disappointment  —  On  the  road  to  Fontanelle  — 
Elkhorn  Valley  —  Lost  on  the  prairie  —  "  Any  port  in  a  storm  "  —  Down  to  the 
Platte  —  Fremont  —  Down  Platte  Valley  —  Intense  heat  —  Want  of  domestic 
economy  —  Romantic  hash  —  Victuals  and  poetry  —  Bovine  apotheosis  —  Farm- 
ing in  Nebraska  —  Room  for  three  hundred  thousand  farmers  —  Climate  — 
Society  —  "  Professional  starvation  "  —  Through  Sarpy  County  —  Youthful  con- 
nubiality  —  Artificial  groves  —  Increase  of  rain-fall  —  Omaha  politics  —  "  Bilks  " 
—  "  Hunting  for  work,  —  hoping  to  not  find  it." 


is  Omaha,  George  Francis  Train  and  the  Credit 
Mobilier!  Such  was  the  shibboleth  of  the  Omahas  when 
I  first  made  their  acquaintance  in  June,  1868.  He  who 
was  not  prepared  to  swear  by  this  local  trinity  was  jocu- 
larly advised  to  emigrate  or  make  his  will.  At  the  pre- 
sent writing  the  second  is  for  the  tenth  time  a  "  martyr  to  prin- 
ciple/' —  nobody  knows  to  what  principle,  —  viewing  the  world 
through  crossbars,  and  the  third  has  become  a  national  scandal, 
from  which  an  odor  of  corruption  pervades  the  whole  land  ;  but 
the  first  still  survives,  and  with  a  more  solid  basis  of  prosperity. 
It  took  me  two  hours  to  discover  that  there  was  no  situation 
waiting  for  me  in  Omaha.  For  some  weeks  before  reaching  the 
city  I  had  continually  heard,  "It's  the  great  city  of  the  near 
future/'  "  The  heart  of  the  Continent  beats  there,"  etc.  ;  and  in 
walking  twice  along  Farnham  Street  I  encountered  some  fifty 
persons  looking  for  "light,  easy  and  genteel  employment." 

But  after  a  few  days'  stay  I  was  convinced  that  no  place  in 
America  had  been  "so  well  lied  about,"  as  no  place  had  been 
exposed  to  a  wider  range  of  praise  and  blame.  That  the  city 
had  a  future  and  a  bright  one  was  certain  ;  but  that  five  men 
were  dazzled  in  the  hope  of  that  future,  and  destined  to  lose 

63 


64 


PRIMITIVE   TIMES. 


time  and  money  waiting  for  it,  to  every  one  that  made  a  success, 
seemed  equally  certain.  Let  us  on  this  point  indulge  in  a  little 
history. 

Omaha  was  laid  out  in  1854,  soon  after  the  organization  of 
Nebraska  Territory,  and  for  several  years  gave  little  promise  of 
future  greatness;  in  fact,  it  was  quite  outrun  by  the  little  settle- 
ment of  Florence,  six  miles  north,  of  which  the  Omahas  now 

speak  patronizingly  as 
a  "very  pretty  suburb," 
destined  in  their  san- 
guine view  to  be  the 
Spring  Grove  or  Brook- 
lyn to  their  future  Go- 
tham. Florence  was 
the  original  "  Winter- 
Quarters"  of  the  Mor- 
mons, where  they  ar- 
rived late  in  184G,  after 
their  expulsion  from 
Naovoo  and  journey 
through  Iowa.  Hun- 
dreds of  them  died  there 
of  actual  want;  some 
were  poisoned  by  eating 
wild  roots,  and  the  Flo- 
rence graveyard  con- 
tains the  remains  of 
seven  hundred  of  these 
victims.  J.  K.  Mitchell, 

founder  of  Florence,  induced  the  Legislature  to  finish  one  ses- 
sion there — after  that  body  had  broken  up  in  a  row  at  Omaha. 
Soon  after  Mitchell  died,  and  his  town  ceased  to  be  a  rival. 
Omaha  contained,  in  1860,  two  thousand  people;  in  1864,  four 
thousand;  then  the  Union  Pacific  got  fairly  under  way,  and  in 
three  years  the  population  doubled.  A  census  taken  by  the 
city  authorities  a  few  days  before  my  arrival,  returned  the  popu- 
lation at  17,600,  and  the  next  year  they  made  it  25,000.  One 


'WANTED  :   LIGHT  AND  GENTEEL 
EMPLOYMENT. " 


SITUATIONS   WANTED.  66 

year  thereafter  came  a  fearful  epidemic  and  swept  away  12,000 
of  these — at  least,  that  strikes  me  as  the  easiest  explanation,  for 
the  National  Census  of  1870  only  credited  Omaha  with  some 
13,000  people.  Council  Bluffs,  which  had  never  claimed  more 
than  12,000,  suffered  but  little  reduction  from  the  census 
epidemic. 

The  growth  of  Omaha  was  encouragingly  rapid ;  but  the 
Western  mind  is  queerly  constructed,  and  great  on  anticipation. 
The  air  is  light,  dry  and  healthy,  and  the  world  looks  big  west 
of  the  Missouri ;  every  man  feels  that  the  range  of  all  outdoors- 
is  his  pasture,  and  is  hopeful  as  a  millionaire  if  he  have  a  few 
corner  lots,  and  ten  dollars  in  his  pocket.  Hence  magnified  re- 
ports, and  glowing  promises  of  more  rapid  growth  in  the  next 
two  years ;  and  thousands  of  young  men  in  the  Northern  and 
Eastern  States  imagined  that  all  they  had  to  do  was  to  come  to 
Omaha,  and  fortune  would  shower  her  favors  on  them.  There 
was  an  immense  immigration  in  1868,  of  just  such  material  as  a 
new  State  does  not  want,  and  for  every  clerk's  or  bookkeeper's 
position  there  were  a  hundred  applicants.  But  the  ninety-nine 
rejected  did  not  particularly  suffer.  Some  footed  it  eastward, 
some  tried  their  fortune  farther  west,  and  some  went  into  the 
country  and  learned  to  till  the  soil ;  for  men  will  work  rather 
than  starve,  and  there  is  abundant  provision  in  Nebraska  for 
men  to  hoe  corn  and  cultivate  muscle.  But  each  of  the  disap- 
pointed wrote  to  his  friends  or  to  the  press,  and  for  the  rest  of 
that  year  Omaha  was  the  best  abused  city  in  the  West. 

The  heated  term  was  at  its  worst,  and  after  ten  days  in 
Omaha  I  once  more  took  my  pilgrim  staff  for  the  country,  fol- 
lowing out  the  California  Trail.  The  telegraph  by  the  road 
side,  continuous  to  San  Francisco,  awakened  some  singular 
reflections :  of  the  time  but  a  few  years  past  when  this  was  the 
last  outpost  of  civilization  on  the  long  route  to  the  Pacific;  of 
the  tens  of  thousands  who  made  this  their  starting  point  for  a 
new  Eldorado,  and  the  thousands  from  every  State  whose 
graves  line  the  trail  all  the  way  to  the  Sacramento.  Now  the 
border  of  cultivation  and  settlement  is  hundreds  of  miles  west- 
ward ;  half  the  distance  to  the  mines  is  traversed  by  rail,  and 
5 


PAPILLION    VALLEY. 


OMAHA    (MTV. 


in  a  year  or  two  more  the  California  Trail  will  be  but  a  trail  on 
the  page  of  history. 

I  own  no  real  estate  in  Nebraska — no  corner  lots  in  Omaha; 
why,  then,  should  I  go  into  raptures  over  the  neighboring 
country?  But  I  cannot  forbear  an  expression  of  gladness  at 
my  recollections  of  that  trip:  of  miles  on  miles  of  cornfields 
with  heavy  crops,  and  wheat  fields  just  ready  for  harvesting; 
farm  products  of  every  kind  in  the  best  of  order,  and  plenty 
snffling  over  all  the  land.  Eight  miles  from  the  city  brought 
me  into  the  valley  of  the  Little  Papillion  (pro.  Pap-ee-onh), 
where  I  spent  the  night  with  a  minister  of  the  German  Refor- 
med Church.  That  people  have  quite  a  settlement  here,  and 
are  temperate,  industrious  and  most  desirable  citizens. 

July  8th. — Journeyed  on  in  a  northwest  direction.  As  this 
has  been  a  hot  dry  summer,  and  no  rain  has  fallen  for  two 
weeks,  I  am  surprised  at  the  appearance  of  the  corn,  which 
shows  no  sign  of  drought,  is  waist  high,  of  a  rich  dark  green, 
and  growing  rapidly.  It  appears  that  the  soil  and  crops  seldom 


SOIL    AND   CLIMATE.  67 

show  the  effects  of  drought,  though  much  less  rain  falls  in  the 
course  of  the  year  than  in  Indiana.  The  hard  freeze  of  the 
winter  makes  the  ground  pulverize  finely  and  hold  moisture 
better  in  summer,  and  it  is  generally  dry  enough  to  plow  in  the 
spring  as  soon  as  the  frost  is  out  of  the  ground.  Settlers  report 
that  the  soil  is  nearly  as  dry  in  winter  as  in  summer,  and  it  is 
only  during  the  month  of  May — is  it  because  the  snows  are 
then  melting  in  the  mountains? — that  they  have  heavy  rains 
here.  The  winda  bother  me  a  little.  I  am  not  yet  free  from 
the  neuralgic  affection  consequent  on  last  winter's  troubles,  and 
the  breeze  makes  me  feel  giddy — more  by  its  steadiness  than  its 
force. 

So  my  old  neighbor  contemplating  emigration  to  Nebraska, 
may  ask  himself  whether  it  is  nobler  in  a  man  to  suffer  the 
stings  and  buffets  of  these  outrageous  winds,  with  freedom  from 
winter  rain  and  mud,  or  take  refuge  in  the  wooded  region  of 
Indiana,  avoid  the  winds,  and  have  the  other  evils. 

Turned  straight  north  up  the  Papillion,  lay  by  in  the  heat  of 
the  day,  and  took  dinner  with  a  Swede  who  had  been  i.erc  a 
year  and  understood  perhaps  fifty  words  of  English.  Fortu- 
nately he  had  served  as  a  mercenary  in  France  and  Italy,  and 
spoke  both  languages  like  a  native.  I  recalled  a  little  of  my 
boarding-school  French,  which  I  hadn't  had  a  chance  to  air  for 
five  years,  and  we  carried  on  a  mongrel  conversation  in  a  very 
barbarous  mixture  of  French  and  Latin. 

He  tells  me  there  has  been  a  famine  in  his  native  province, 
and  that  all  Swedes  here  who  can  raise  money  have  sent  it  to 
their  friends  and  relations  to  pay  their  passage  out,  and  that 
accounts  for  the  many  young  people  I  see  among  them  who  do 
not  appear  to  be  of  the  family.  They  are  stopping  with  their 
friends  till  they  can  get  homes,  which  is  but  a  little  while  in 
this  marvelously  fertile  region,  where  every  laborer  is  in  demand, 
and  where  the  State  wants  the  hardy  Scandinavian  almost  as 
badly  as  he  wants  it. 

I  stop  for  the  night  with  another  of  the  "  Deformed  Dutch," 
as  the  Yankees  hereabout  irreverently  style  these  German  Pres- 
byterians. 


68 


A  ROUN  1)  FONTA  N  ELLE. 


SCENE  NEAR  FONTANELLE. 

July  9th. — Bear  away  westward  toward  Fontanelle,and  through 
a  most  delightful  country,  wandering  at  random  among  the  far- 
mers, and  boring  them  with  questions  on  climate,  soil,  etc.  The 
immigration  here  this  year  is  great,  and  composed  largely  of  the 
best  class  of  foreigners.  Vacant  lands  have  advanced  in  price 
from  three  to  five  dollars  an  acre;  and  farmers  are  buying  land 
near  their  homesteads  as  fast  as  they  can  command  the  means, 
in  the  assured  belief  that  it  will  double  in  value  in  a  year  or  two. 
This  is  accounted  the  "garden  spot  of  Nebraska."  If  the 
country  only  had  plenty  of  timber  it  would  be  perfect.  And 
the  settlers  are  fast  remedying  that  lack;  for  every  farm  has  an 
artificial  grove,  and  most  of  them  are  now  old  enough  to  add 
great  beauty  to  the  landscape.  In  places,  large  plats  which 
have  boon  planted  ten  or  twelve  years  present  the  appearance 


LOST   ON   THE   PRAIRIE.  69 

of  natural  forest.  The  country  is  gently  rolling  and  the  views 
very  fine.  At  every  turn  in  the  road  I  exclaim,  "Surely  this 
cannot  be  excelled,"  and  yet  the  next  view  as  I  move  towards 
Fontanelle  seems  still  more  beautiful. 

July  10th. — A  day  about  Fontanelle,  which  is  a  neat,  country 
village,  elegantly  situated  on  a  commanding  ridge  above  the 
Elk  horn  river. 

Turning  southwest  late  in  the  afternoon,  I  lost  my  way  on 
the  unbroken  prairie  north  of  the  Platte,  and  soon  after  sundown 
reached  a  farmhouse  which  looked  very  uninviting  by  starlight, 
but  was  my  only  chance  within  ten  miles.  To  my  earnest  in- 
quiry for  fresh  water,  the  settler  answered  that  he  had  dug  two 
wells,  one  seventy  feet  deep  and  got  no  water,  but  struck  sand 
which  "caved  so  he  could  not  curb."  This  is  the  only  such 
case  I  have  found  in  the  State.  Sometimes  they  must  dig  deep, 
but  they  get  as  fine  water  as  I  ever  tasted.  The  family  were 
using  water  from  the  creek,  of  which  one  tinful  satisfied  and  dis- 
gusted me. 

To  my  request  for  lodging  he  answered  that  I  would  find 
hard  accommodations,  but  he  never  turned  anybody  away  at 
night.  No  mention  was  made  of  supper,  and  I  was  conducted 
at  once  by  a  ladder  to  the  upper  story,  where  I  turned  in  for  the 
night  on  a  shuck  bed,  and  soon  forgot  in  sleep  all  my  troubles 
but  thirst.  But  oh,  the  visionary  springs  that  tantalized  me, 
the  crystal  streams  that  flowed  in  inviting,  tormenting  beauty 
through  my  dreams.  How  often  did  I  see  the  "cot  of  my 
father,  the  dairy  house  nigh  it,  and  the  old  oaken  bucket  that 
hung  in  the  well,"  and  wake,  just  as  the  treacherous  water  fled 
from  my  lips. 

July  llth. — Daylight  revealed  a  situation.  My  host's  wife 
was  insane — as  he  expressed  it,  "clean  daft" — and  his  six  chil- 
dren, ranging  from  one  year  old  to  ten,  were  growing  up  like 
wild  bulrushes.  A  sort  of  breakfast  was  prepared,  and  I  forced 
a  scant  ration  of  bread  and  coffee,  but  it  was  a  signal  triumph 
of  a  catholic  stomach  over  a  protesting  nose. 

My  host  was  going  to  Fremont,  "  to  git  his  sod  plow  sot  and 
sharped,"  and  I  took  a  seat  in  his  wagon,  and  in  an  hour  reached 


70  FREMONT. 

the  summit  of  the  slope  leading  down  to  the  Platte  Valley.  As 
I  viewed  the  panorama  of  beauty  my  heart  swelled  at  the  glory 
and  magnificence  of  the  scene.  Far  as  the  eye  could  pierce  to 
the  east  and  west  spread  the  plain,  its  surface  covered  with  tall 
grass,  now  waving  and  sparkling  in  the  morning  sunshine; 
along  the  opposite  bluff  ran  the  broad  Platte  fringed  with  tim- 
ber, and  on  the  near  bank,  some  five  miles  distant,  the  town  of 
Fremont  showed  like  a  toy  village  half  buried  in  the  green  car- 
pet. Up  the  valley  from  the  east  rumbled  the  morning  train 
on  the  Union  Pacific,  while  far  to  the  westward  a  band  of 
Pawnees  were  just  passing  out  of  sight,  seeming  on  the  level 
plain,  to  fade  into  the  blue  horizon.  The  whole  scene  was  em- 
blematic of  progress,  breathing  the  spirit  of  borderland  poetry. 
I  wanted  to  shout  or  sing.  Eagerly  I  wished  for  a  companion 
to  talk  in  harmony  with  the  scene  and  my  feelings.  But  the 
man  at  my  side  was  utterly  unconcerned.  He  had  seen  it  a 
thousand  times,  and  Gallio-like,  cared  for  none  of  these 
things. 

From  the  bluff  the  road  across  the  plain  looked  like  a  deep 
ditch  with  green  banks,  but  this  appearance  was  due  to  the  rank 
grass  reaching  on  each  side  nearly  as  high  as  the  horses7  backs. 
Entering  between  these  green  banks,  the  hitherto  apathetic  far- 
mer suddenly  seized  his  whip  and  applied  it  vigorously  to  his 
team,  shouting  at  every  blow  till  they  were  in  a  gallop,  while  the 
wagon  made  fearful  lurches,  and  our  seatboard  rattled  over  it  in 
every  direction.  I  bounced  about  the  wagon-box,  exerting  all 
my  ingenuity  to  save  my  limbs,  and  as  soon  as  I  could  get 
breath  shouted  that  there  was  no  occasion  for  such  hurry,  to 
take  it  easy.  His  only  reply  in  the  intervals  of  plying  the  whip, 
was  to  point  to  the  tall  grass,  from  which  I  then  observed  pour- 
ing by  hundreds,  a  peculiar  sort  of  clipper-built  fly,  with  green 
heads,  black  bodies,  and  yellow  shoulder-straps,  which  were 
trying  to  settle  on  the  horses,  and  only  prevented  by  the  latter's 
speed.  I  held  on  in  desperation,  and  our  speed  did  not  slacken 
for  two  miles,  until  we  reached  the  rising  ground  and  got  among 
the  cultivated  fields  near  Fremont.  There,  while  I  gathered 
myself  up  and  took  stock  of  abrasions  and  cuticular  losses,  the 


DOWN    THE    PLATTE.  71 

farmer  killed  the  few  flies  which  had  stuck,  each  one  leaving  a 
bright  red  drop  of  blood  on  the  frantic  animals. 

July  12th. — Spent  Sunday  at  Fremont,  a  flourishing  western 
Yankee  town  of  1200  people.  No  church  or  Sabbath  school 
that  I  can  hear  of,  but  plenty  of  loafers  on  the  hotel  porch  all 
day,  sociable  and  communicative,  discussing  the  hot  weather,  the 
grasshoppers,  and  the  "  craps."  All  agree  that  the  "  hoppers  " 
are  coming,  and  that  it  will  be  "  mighty  tough  on  the  new  set- 
tlers as  ha'int  got  their  claims  paid  for  yet.''  Late  p.  M.  walked 
five  miles  down  the  valley. 

July  13th. — The  "  hoppers"  have  come,  but  fortunately  only 
a  light  invasion,  and  doing  very  little  injury.  A  few  fields  of 
wheat  "in  this  valley  are  "  nipped,"  and  passengers  say  that  for 
two  or  three  miles  on  Papillion,  nearly  half  the  crop  is  destroyed. 
Travel  slowly  towards  Omaha  through  the  most  fertile  country 
I  ever  saw.  Farmers  estimate  their  wheat  will  average  thirty 
bushels  per  acre.  Corn  still  looks  thrifty  in  spite  of  long  con- 
tinued heat  and  drought.  Thermometer  stood  at  100°  for  four 
hours  to-day.  Consequently  I  stood  not  at  all,  but  lay  by  on 
the  porch  of  a  farmer's  house  till  4  P.  M.  Stopped  for  supper 
in  Big  Papillion  Valley,  at  an  inviting  frame  dwelling  sur- 
rounded by  fine  fields  of  corn  and  wheat,  from  which  I  argued 
good  cheer.  My  disappointment  was  terrible.  Tea  that  drew 
my  mouth  awry,  without  milk ;  butter,  that  defied  me  in  self- 
conscious  strength  ;  pork,  the  rankest  that  ever  smelt  to  heaven  ; 
and  bread  that  defied  my  geology  to  classify.  After  due  trial  I 
ventured  to  assign  it  to  the  palaeozoic  period.  It  lacerated  my 
mouth  ;  it  would  have  killed  rats.  For  this  entertainment  (?) 
my  host  required  "  six  bits." 

Left  in  an  ill-humor,  and  proceeded  to  criticize  the  western 
farmer's  style  of  living.  Why  do  so  many  of  our  people  poison 
themselves — even  those  who  are  able  to  do  better — when  good 
food  is  just  as  cheap?  How  many  families  in  Indiana  and 
Illinois  are  cursing  the  climate  for  evils  which  three  months' 
attention  to  the  chemistry  of  common  life  would  relieve  ? 
Know  ye  not,  that  what  a  man  eateth  that  he  is  ?  Science  has 
demonstrated  that  we  are  totally  remade,  bone  and  blood,  brain 


72  G  ASTRONOMICAL. 

and  muscle,  every  seven  years.  Thus  our  present  selves  are 
ever  scooping  up  our  future  selves  with  knife,  fork  and  spoon. 
And  have  not  I,  A.  B.,  a  vital  interest  in  what  the  A.  B.  of 
seven  years  hence  shall  be  ?  Fried  pork,  watery  potatoes,  sloppy 
coffee,  and  sad  bread  !  How  can  the  Hoosier  or  Sucker  retain 
his  self-respect  when  he  remembers  his  component  elements  ? 

The  classic  Greeks  did  well  to  locate  the  soul  in  the  stomach. 
I  am  not  so  sure  but  the  enlightened  moderns  will  return  to 
that  philosophy.  The  greatest  philosophers  to  a  man  were 
lovers  of  good  eating.  Man,  dominating  the  whole  animal 
kingdom,  selects  only  its  noblest  representatives  as  worthy  to 
sink  their  individuality  in  his,  by  giving  their  meat  and  muscle 
to  become  part  of  his  corporation.  The  highest  compliment 
man  can  pay  the  ox  is  to  eat  him.  By  so  doing  he  demonstrates 
that  the  bovine  is  worthy  to  be  absorbed  in  the  human ;  and  if 
we  may  believe  that  animal  has  a  soul,  how  cheerful  to  reflect 
that  it  meets  its  proper  apotheosis  by  adoption  into  the  human 
spirituality.  Viewed  in  that  light  these  animals  are  indeed  im- 
mortal ;  they  survive  in  us,  their  federal  head  and  final  repre- 
sentative. 

When  a  man  says  of  the  idol  of  his  soul,  "  I  love  her  well 
enough  to  eat  her,"  what  does  he  mean  but  this :  that  he  has  so 
intense  an  appreciation  of  her  excellence  that  he  would  literally 
absorb  it,  swallow  up  as  it  were  her  rare  combination  of  soul 
and  body — beautiful  simile! — translate  her,  so  to  speak,  and 
make  her  a  part  of  himself  in  fact  as  well  as  in  figure.  In  this 
philosophical  light,  the  lover's  tender  suggestion  of  amatory  can- 
nibalism is  really  the  most  delicate  of  respectful  compliments. 

Favor  is  deceitful,  and  beauty's  only  skin  deep,  but  there  is 
no  discount  on  boned  turkey  and  scalloped  oysters.  I  have  no 
sympathy  with  that  class  of  transcendentalists,  fortunately  small, 
who  deprecate  any  deep  interest  in  the  mere  pleasure  of  eating. 

"  We  may  live  without  sentiment,  music  and  art, 
We  may  live  without  poetry,  pictures  or  books, 
But  civilized  man  cannot  live  without  cooks." 

Having  thus  grumbled  myself  into  good  nature,  I  sauntered 


BEAUTIES   OF   NEBRASKA.  73 

on  towards  the  city,  stopping  late  in  the  evening  with  a  prosper- 
ous farmer  in  Little  Papillion  Valley. 

July  14th. — A  beautiful  artificial  grove  of  twenty  acres  on  this 
farm,  shows  that,  whatever  be  the  true  theory  as  to  the  origin 
of  these  prairies,  the  soil  and  climate  have  the  capacity  to  pro- 
duce timber  in  abundance.  My  host  says  the  trees  are  made  to 
grow  twice  as  fast  for  the  first  three  years  by  cultivating  corn 
among  them.  Most  are  cottonwood  and  soft  maple.  The 
locusts  along  the  road  have  attained  a  foot  in  thickness  in 
eleven  years.  Nebraska  has  the  land,  the  air,  and  the  water; 
but  lacks  somewhat  the  timber  and  rock,  though  the  last  abounds 
in  a  few  localities. 

Reached  Omaha  to-day,  and  now  sum  tip  a  few  notes  on 
rural  Nebraska: 

For  the  width  of  the  State  and  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
back  from  the  Missouri,  almost  every  foot  of  land  is  adapted  for 
the  comfort  and  sustenance  of  man.  Thirty  thousand  square 
miles  of  the  most  fertile  land  in  the  world  has  even  now  (1873) 
but  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  inhabitants.  There  is  abund- 
ant room  for  at  least  three  hundred  thousand  farmers  and  stock- 
growers.  Vacant  lands  can  be  purchased  at  from  three  to  fifteen 
dollars  per  acre,  according  to  location,  the  vicinity  of  railroads, 
etc.  I  had  offers  of  as  fine  land  as  I  ever  saw,  in  the  Papillion 
Valleys,  within  ten  or  twenty  miles  of  the  Union  Pacific,  for 
eight  dollars  per  acre;  but  it  has  no  doubt  doubled  in  price 
since.  On  the  Elkhorn,  above  Fontanelle,  is  still  much  vacant 
land  to  be  had  very  cheap.  In  the  southern  part  of  the  State, 
between  Lincoln  and  the  eastern  border,  are  large  sections  of 
railroad  land  to  be  had  at  moderate  prices,  on  annual  payments 
for  seven  years.  Any  live  Yankee  farmer  can  make  the  pay- 
ments on  the  land  after  the  second  year.  Farther  back  lands 
are  still  cheaper,  with  fine  facilities  for  grazing. 

On  the  slopes  and  in  the  valleys,  the  soil  is  continuous  of  the 
same  quality  for  six  feet  below  the  surface.  Immediately  under 
this,  lies  a  bed  of  soft,  rather  moist  sand,  which  probably  causes 
the  soil  to  remain  moist  so  long.  In  spite  of  the  long  droughts 
of  1868,  the  crops  were  very  fine.  While  the  valleys  and 


74  HEALTH    AND    CLIMATE. 

slopes  are  best  for  corn,  the  uplands  produce  better  wheat. 
After  the  hard  freeze  of  winter,  with  no  thaws,  the  soil  pulver- 
izes finely  in  summer.  It  is  never  water  soaked  ;  consequently 
never  "  bakes  "  or  clods.  The  best  farmers  do  not  plow  the 
land  in  spring  for  wheat,  after  it  has  been  cultivated  two  or 
three  years;  but  merely  harrow  in  the  seed. 

Later  experience  in  Nebraska  convinced  me  that  the  State 
averaged  as  many  clear  days  in  winter  as  any  part  of  America. 
I  grumbled  considerably  about  the  wind  at  first ;  it  caused  a 
giddy  feeling  in  my  head.  But  after  I  got  over  the  neuralgia, 
bronchitis,  catarrh,  and  six  or  eight  other  complaints  I  brought 
from  Indiana,  I  rather  liked  it;  and  now  I  quite  prefer  a  region 
with  a  continuous  gentle  breeze  of  six  or  eight  miles  an  hour. 
My  observation  in  the  West  has  led  me  to  conclude  that  regions 
with  steady  winds  are  the  most  healthful. 

Society  in  Nebraska  will  average.  There  is  no  section  where 
they  will  murder  a  man  outright  because  he  is  a  Christian;  and 
none  where  they  will  disfranchise  him  if  he  is  not.  The 
standard  of  popular  intelligence  is  high.  The  people  are  the 
most  enterprising  classes  from  those  Eastern  States,  which  have 
good  public  schools.  The  school  system  is  equal  to  that  of  any 
State  in  the  Union.  So,  on  the  whole,  if  you  are  native  to  any 
climate  north  of  latitude  thirty-five  degrees,  and  have  any  "get 
up  "  about  you,  and  can  and  \vill  work,  there's  a  show  for  you 
in  rural  Nebraska. 

As  for  professionals — well,  most  of  the  towns  have  doctors 
and  lawyers  to  all  eternity,  and  insurance  agents  till  you  can't 
rest.  Omaha  had,  in  1868,  fifty-three  attorneys:  business,  I 
should  say,  for  about  six.  However,  for  an  enterprising  young 
man,  without  any  capital  to  speak  of,  and  just  beginning  a  pro- 
fession, it  offers  as  fine  a  field  for  successful  starvation  as  any 
place  I  know. 

Finding  at  Omaha  a  dozen  or  more  letters  from  old  friends 
inquiring  about  Nebraska  lands,  I  again  started  afoot,  this  time 
toward  the  southern  part  of  the  State.  For  a  few  miles  below 
Omaha  the  country  may  be  called  hilly  ;  then  it  sinks  by  gentle 
slopes  to  the  Platte  Valley,  and  thence  rolling  prairie  extends 


A   VENTURESOME   YOUTH.  75 

to  the  Kansas  border.  Traveled  for  the  first  day  through  a 
fine  wheat  region  in  Sarpy  County,  the  farmers  everywhere  at 
work,  but  complaining  much  of  the  intense  heat.  Where  I 
stopped  for  dinner  there  had  been,  the  previous  day,  two  cases 
of  sunstroke,  but  neither  seemed  likely  to  prove  fatal.  Instead 
of  the  breeze  generally  prevailing  on  the  prairie  there  was  a 
dead  calm,  sultry  and  oppressive. 

At  sundown  I  turned  aside  to  an  humble  cabin  flanked  by  a 
pretentious  stable.  Found  no  one  at  home  but  a  girl  and  boy 
as  I  supposed,  of  whom  seeking  hospitality  I  enquired  for  the 
man  of  the  house.  An  audible  smile  greeted  me,  and  the  lad 
replied  that  he  was  "the  only  man  oj  the  house  there  was  about." 
Further  conversation  developed  the  fact,  that  this  youthful  pair 
had  been  married  ten  months,  and  still  lacked  six  weeks  of  nine- 
teen and  sixteen  years  respectively.  The  girl-matron,  "  reck- 
oned she  could  get  rne  something  to  eat,  an'  I  could  sleep  in 
the  barn-loft  with  brother  Perry." 

Under  the  influence  of  a  cup  of  tea  she  became  more  than 
social,  stating  that  "  Ike's  folks  was  much  agin  the  match,  but 
Ike  was  a  com  in'  out  to  pre-empt,  and  swore  he'd  have  a 
woman  to  help  him."  I  gazed  at  the  young  husband  with 
that  admiration  the  timid  always  feel  for  the  brave.  They 
"  was  married  in  Iowa,  and  both  worked  for  one  farmer  three 
months  to  get  money  to  pay  for  their  things,  then  came  right 
out  an'  pre-empted."  Then  she  turned  questioner,  and  put  me 
in  the  witness-box:  Where  was  I  born  and  raised?  Didn't  I 
like  this  country  better  than  Injiana?  And  finally,  after  a 
pause,  and  with  a  sudden  jerk  of  the  head  as  if  she  had  forgot- 
ten something  important,  "  What  do  you  do  with  your  wife 
while  you're  trarnpin'  round  lookin'  at  the  country?"  I  told 
her  I  had  no  wife,  at  which  she  was  somewhat  taken  aback, 
but  recovering  handsomely,  in  a  minute  or  two  returned  to  the 
fl large  by  asking  why  I  had  never  married.  I  answered  that 
I  had  hardly  thought  I  was  old  enough,  and  no  more  questions 
were  asked.  I  had  her  there. 

Darkness  came,  and  with  it  dense  swarms  of  musquitoes 
from  the  neighboring  bayous  of  the  Missouri  and  Platte^ 


76 


SCENE    NEAR    PAPILLION,    NEBRASKA. 

The  married  boy  ventured  a  remark  that  "  Some  Jun  had 
told  him  a  muskeeter  only  lived  one  day,  but  he  reckoned 
not;  for  they  come  up  that  holler  by  the  fillion,  and  he  was 
keen  to  swear  that  some  big  ones  come  back  every  day  for  a 
\veek." 

"  Smudges"  were  lighted  about  the  yard,  and  the  house  was 
enveloped  in  a  cloud  of  smoke  which  soon  silenced  the  cozening 
tormentors.  "Brother  Perry"  then  led  the  way,  carrying  an 
old  kettle  containing  a  "smudge,"  to  the  stable;  we  ascended 
to  the  loft  by  an  outside  ladder,  and  retired.  The  bed  had  a 
maximum  of  cord  to  a  minimum  of  feathers,  and  I  soon  found 
that  we  had  "jumped  a  claim"  which  the  original  squatters 
were  determined  not  to  vacate.  Though  small,  they  were  nu- 
merous and  unanimous,  and  enforced  squatter  law  with  blood- 
thirsty zeal;  so,  after  tossing  and  battling  till  midnight,  every 


KAIN    AND   TIMBER.  77 

inch  of  my  cuticle  in  a  fever,  I  rose  with  a  full  appreciation  of 
Byron's  beautiful  line  • 

"No  sleep  till  morn," 

and  sat  by  a  "smudge"  till  daylight. 

Thence  south  west  ward  for  a  few  days,  I  found  the  country 
about  as  that  west  of  Omaha,  but  with  more  and  cheaper  vacant 
land.  Every  settler  had  an  artificial  grove  of  from  ten  to 
twenty  acres.  It  is  a  frequent  subject  of  remark  in  Indiana, 
that  cutting  the  timber  and  clearing  up  the  country  is  slowly 
tending  to  dry  up  the  streams ;  that  springs  "  go  dry  every 
summer  which  never  did  before."  But  here  exactly  the  reverse 
phenomena  are  presented.  It  is  supposed  that  breaking  up  the 
land  allows  it  to  absorb  more  moisture  than  it  could  in  the 
prairie  state;  and  the  settlers  tell  me  that  breaking  up  a  hun- 
dred acres  of  sod  will  renew  an  old  spring,  and  branches  are 
starting  in  gullies  which  have  been  dry  for  hundreds,  perhaps 
thousands,  of  years.  The  oldest  pioneers  add,  that  the  fall  of 
rain  in  Western  Nebraska  and  Kansas  has  doubled  within  the 
memory  of  man. 

I  returned  to  Omaha  to  find  it  hot,  physically  and  politically* 
The  campaign  of  1868  inaugurated;  the  days  were  too  sultry 
for  politics,  but  the  nights  were  made  hideous  by  party  meet- 
ings. General  Grant  and  party,  including  Generals  Sherman 
and  Sheridan,  arrived  from  the  West,  and  fifteen  thousand 
people  turned  out  to  welcome  them.  Ornaha  then  had  a  "float- 
ing population"  worth  studying.  It  was  the  half-way  place 
between  the  East  and  the  West.  Thousands  started  for  the 
mountains,  got  to  Omaha,  got  out  of  money,  and  stopped  dis- 
heartened. Thousands  were  started  home  from  the  mountains 
and  got  to  the  city  in  the  same  impecunious  condition.  Daily 
the  tide  of  emigration  rolled  in  from  the  East,  and  passed  on  to 
the  Far  West,  leaving  here  a  deposit  of  its  worthless  materials; 
and  daily  the  refluent  tide  rolled  back  from  the  mountains, 
leaving  a  larger  deposit  of  more  worthless  materials.  The 
streets  were  crowded,  but  the  crowds  did  not  indicate  a  corre- 
sponding amount  of  money.  Nineteen  hotels  and  restaurants 


78  "FLOATERS." 

\vere  in  operation,  and  at  every  one  of  them  "bilks"  abounded. 
The  floating  class  were  in  just  that  condition  when  men  will 
steal  or  beg  their  provisions,  but  carefully  save  their  money  to 
buy  whiskey.  A  thousand  idlers  were  sitting  about  Omaha 
complaining  of  "hard  times,"  and  cursing  the  country,  while  in 
the  rural  districts  the  farmers  were  hunting  in  all  directions  for 
help,  and  offering  three  dollars  a  day  for  harvesting  and  hay- 
ing. Verily  something  was  wrong :  "  The  chain  and  the 
bucket  were  not  hitched  together." 


CHAPTER    IV. 

ON   THE   UNION   PACIFIC. 

Up  the  Platte  Valley — Beauty  by  moonlight ;  barrenness  by  day — Getting  on  to 
the  desert — North  Platte — "  The  gentle  gazelle  " — "  Dog-town  " — Not  dogs, 
but  rodents — "  Indians  ahead  " — The  dangerous  district — Crossing  the  plains 
in  1866 — "  The  noble  Red  Man" — Cheyenne — Vigorous  reduction  of  the  popu- 
lation —  Black  Hill  —  Sherman  —  Down  to  Laramie  —  The  Alkali  Desert  — 
Benton — A  beautiful  summer  resort! — Manners  and  morals  (?) — Bravery  of 
the  impecunious — Murder  and  mob — Vigilantes — Murderer  rescued  by  the 
military  and  escapes — Amusements — "kBigTent " — "  Now  then,  gentlemen,  the 
ace  is  your  winning  card  " — "  Cappers  "  and  Victims — No  fairness  in  gambling. 

"  The  Yankee's  place  of  heaven  and  rest 
Is  found  a  little  farther  West." 

ND  therefore,  at  6  P.  M.  of  July  31st,  I  started  westward 
,1  by  the  Union  Pacific.  The  intense  and  protracted  heat 
had  yielded  at  last;  a  heavy  rain  of  twenty-four  hours 
had  cooled  the  air,  and  washed  the  dust  from  the  grass, 
leaving  all  the  region  along  the  road  a  beautiful  rich 
green.  The  road  ran  through, a  well  settled  and  cultivated 
country  for  about  fifty  miles,  but  a  little  west  of  Fremont,  we 
ran  out  suddenly  into  the  open  prairie,  consisting  of  the  rolling 
slopes  and  broad  fertile  valley  of  the  Platte. 

The  sky  was  clear  after  the  storm,  and  the  sunset  was  one 
that,  in  Italy,  would  have  been  "gorgeous/7  "unrivalled,"  and 
worthy  of  any  amount  of  florid  description,  but  on  our  western 
prairie  was  simply  beautiful.  Then  rose  the  harvest-moon,  now 
at  its  full ;  and  leaning  out  of  the  car-window  I  drank  in  quiet 
enjoyment  while  grove,  bluff  and  broad  silvery  Platte  rolled  by 
in  ever  varying  panorama  of  loveliness.  Nor  was  it  till  mid- 
night that  wearied  of  gazing  I  went  to  sleep. 

Daylight  came,  the  loveliness  was  gone,  and  the  whole  scene 
Jiad  changed.  For  landscape  beauty  there  was  only  grandeur  ; 

79 


80 


FIRST    VIEW    OF   THE    PLAINS.  81 

for  rich  green  prairie  and  picturesque  groves  there  was  only  the 
majesty  of  distance,  an  expanse  without  life,  vast  plains  and  rol- 
ling hills.  The  broad  Platte,  like  a  stream  of  molten  silver  by 
moonlight,  now  appeared  its  real  self:  a  dirty  and  uninviting 
lagoon,  only  differing  from  a  slough  in  having  a  current,  from 
half  a  mile  to  two  miles  wide,  and  with  barely  water  enough  to 
fill  an  average  canal ;  six  inches  of  fluid  running  over  another 
stream  of  six  feet  or  more  of  treacherous  sand;  too  thin  to  walk 
on,  too  thick  to  drink,  too  shallow  for  navigation,  too  deep  for 
safe  fording,  too  yellow  to  wash  in,  too  pale  to  paint  with — 
the  most  disappointing  and  least  useful  stream  in  America. 
Here  and  there  in  the  river  are  low  islands,  barely  rising  above 
the  water  and  scantily  clothed  with  brush ;  and  in  the  bends  of 
the  stream,  more  rarely,  clumps  of  large  timber  or  green 
meadows. 

Vegetation  begins  to  show  signs  of  drought.  The  grass  is 
short  and  wiry,  with  a  sort  of  dried,  cured  look  ;  no  more  bright 
flowers  are  seen,  and  neither  house  nor  cultivated  field  appears. 
As  we  move  westward  through  the  day  we  occasionally  see  the 
blue  larkspur  and  then  the  resinweed  and  greasewood ;  finally 
appear  the  "sand-burr,"  a  species  of  cactus,  and  a  stunted 
flower  resembling  the  fuchsia  with  weakened  pink  and  blue 
tints.  We  appear  to  be  running  on  a  dead  level ;  for  though 
the  route  is  up  the  Platte  Valley,  the  ascent  is  so  gradual  as  to 
be  quite  imperceptible.  At  places  the  road  is  perfectly  straight 
for  several  miles,  and  at  one  point  I  can  stand  on  the  rear  plat- 
form and  note  the  lines  of  rail  steadily  converging  till  they 
unite  and  fade  away  beyond  the  reach  of  the  eye  in  far  per- 
spective. 

We  take  breakfast  at  North  Platte — 291  miles  from  Omaha 
• — an  excellent  one,  too  ;  all  the  delicacies  of  an  Eastern  hotel, 
and  antelope  and  buffalo  steaks  in  addition,  for  the  moderate 
price  of  a  dollar  and  a  quarter.  Such  were  the  rates  till  the 
road  was  finished.  Now  one  dollar  is  the  standard  price  for  a 
meal  from  Omaha  to  Ogden.  Thence  we  move  out  upon  a  high, 
dry  plain,  following  near  the  South  Platte,  having  left  the 
junction  at  North  Platte,  and  at  10  A.  M.,  the  cry  of  "  Ante- 
6 


82  STRANGE   ANIMALS. 

lopes  ! "  brings  every  tourist  to  the  window.  Our  car  was  filled 
exclusively  with  "  pilgrims ; "  not  a  man  in  it  had  ever  been 
west  of  the  Missouri  in  his  life,  and  none  were  ashamed  to  ex- 
hibit curiosity.  For  an  hour  or  two  we  saw  only  single  ante- 
lopes, and  at  a  distance ;  then  they  appeared  in  considerable 
numbers,  one  herd  containing  seventy.  They  came  so  near  the 
track  that  we  could  see  the  brightness  and  inquisitive  stare  of 
their  eyes,  then  at  the  sound  of  a  pistol  shot  from  the  platform 
turned  and  bounded  swiftly  away  over  the  hills,  displaying  in 
perfection  all  the  poetry  of  motion.  They  are  a  little  larger 
than  our  common  goat,  but  rather  resemble  the  deer.  The  meat 
I  think  equal  to  venison  in  the  fall  and  winter,  but  it  is  rather 
hard  and  tough  from  May  to  September.  They  can  be  tamed, 
but  domesticating  and  handling  appear  to  take  all  their  wild 
vivacity  out  of  them.  Their  sleek  and  shining  coats  roughen 
and  the  hair  turns  the  wrong  way;  the  eye  loses  its  bright,  and 
mobile  softness,  and  they  walk  slowly  about,  looking  more  like 
sick  goats  than  the  "gentle  gazelle"  of  poetry.  They  can  be 
taken  East,  but  with  great  difficulty;  for  they  are  singularly 
tender  in  the  back,  and  a  slight  blow  will  break  the  vetebra3, 
though  one  can  carry  off  half  a  dozen  shots  in  the  legs  or 
breast,  and  still  escape  the  hunter. 

We  next  entered  "  Dog-town,"  eastern  border  of  the  prairie- 
dog  country,  which  extends  nearly  two  hundred  miles  eastward 
from  the  eastern  base  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  over  ten 
degrees  of  latitude.  For  over  a  mile  the  train  runs  through  a 
continuous  town,  the  prairie  thickly  dotted  all  the  way  with 
their  mounds.  It  was  a  "  good  day  for  dogs  "  when  we  passed, 
and  the  little  creatures  seemed  no  way  disconcerted  by  the  train, 
but  would  sit  on  their  haunches,  and  converse  with  each  other 
in  short  yelps  till  a  shot  was  fired  from  the  cars,  when  hundreds 
of  feet  would  twinkle  in  the  air,  and  the  whole  community  go 
under  with  amazing  suddenness.  One  by  one  they  would  peep 
cautiously  out,  and  soon  reappear  to  gaze  and  bark  till  another 
shot.  This  peculiar  yelp,  like  that  of  a  young  puppy,  seerns  to 
be  the  only  reason  they  are  called  dogs,  for  they  have  nothing 
else  in  common  with  the  canine  genus.  They  are  not  carni- 


A    SCARE. 


DOG-TOWN  " — UNION  PACIFIC  R.   R. 


vorous,  but  live  entirely  on  grass  and  roots;  they  are  shaped 
midway  between  a  squirrel  and  a  ground-hog,  have  teeth  like 
the  former,  and  belong  to  the  class  Rodentia. 

The  usual  rumor  was  circulated  of  Indians  having  attacked 
and  plundered  the  next  train  ahead  of  ours,  producing  the  usual 
amount  of  nervousness  to  reward  the  perpetrators  of  the  hoax. 
Such  rumors  were  started  regularly  on  every  train  for  a  year  or 
two  after  the  road  was  completed,  and  obtained  ready  credence 
from  the  well-known  fact  that  this  section — on  the  South  Platte 
— had  been  the  most  dangerous  part  of  the  old  stage  route.  In 
1866  the  U.  S.  Mail  Coach,  carrying  a  military  guard  and 
several  armed  passengers,  was  attacked  near  here  by  a  hundred 
mounted  Sioux  and  Cheyennes,  and  escaped  after  a  running  fight 
of  twenty  miles.  A  private  party,  in  prairie  ambulances,  just 
behind  were  not  so  fortunate.  They  lost  all  their  stock,  and 
took  refuge  in  a  "buffalo  wallow  "a  few  rods  in  circumference 
—  a  splendid  natural  earth-work — and  kept  the  savages  at  bay 


FOUR    HUNDRED    MILES    OF    DESERT.  85 

for  two  days  till  they  were  relieved  by  a  party  of  soldiers. 
Two  of  their  number,  captured  by  the  savages,  were  roasted  in 
full  view  of  the  besieged. 

But  now  a  costly  peace  had  been  purchased,  and  Spot  Ed. 
Tail  and  lady  were  guests  of  the  Rollins  House  in  Cheyenne. 
Xow  as  we  glide  swiftly  through  the  "dangerous  district,"  a 
small  squad  of  soldiers  appears  at  every  section  house,  drawn 
up  to  receive  us,  and  standing  at  a  "  present,"  till  the  train  has 
passed.  Their  barracks  are  walled  to  the  roof  with  sod,  and  a 
little  way  off  is  a  small  sod  fort,  connecting  with  the  barracks 
by  an  underground  passage.  Occasionally  we  see  a  group  of 
Indians  looking  on  from  distant  sand-hills,  and  the  romantic 
may  fancy  them  musing  sadly,  or  mutually  indulging  in  lofty 
strains  of  pathos,  over  this  curious  smoke-breathing  monster 
which  is  fast  hastening  the  destruction  of  their  race.  But  in 
prosaic  fact  the  Indian  seldom  if  ever  thinks  of  such  things. 
He  is  moved  by  a  blind  instinct  to  plunder  and  kill,  and  is  not 
capable  of  a  definite  war  policy.  Not  one  in  a  hundred  of  the 
plains  Indians  has  any  conception  of  the  comparative  greatness 
of  the  white  race. 

For  four  hundred  miles  on  our  way  there  are  no  towns — 
unless  the  eating  stations  deserve  that  name.  We  dine  at  Sid- 
ney, and  late  in  the  day  reach  Cheyenne,  live  hundred  and  six- 
teen miles,  and  twenty-five  hours,  from  Omaha,  where  I  stop 
for  two  days  note-gathering.  Six  months  since  it  was  the 
"great  city  of  the  plains,"  lively  and  wicked,  with  perhaps  six 
thousand  people ;  now  it  is  a  quiet  and  moral  burg  of  some 
fifteen  hundred  inhabitants.  Seeking  information  of  a  young 
resident,  a  traveler  was  informed  that  the  population  origin- 
ally amounted  to  ten  thousand,  but  they  had  lately  shot  and 
hanged  so  many  that  he  "  reckoned  three  thousand  was  now 
about  the  figure." 

From  Cheyenne  the  road  is  nearly  level  to  Hazard  Station, 
officially  pronounced  the  eastern  base  of  the  Rocky  Mountains; 
and  thence  the  grade  rises  a-n  average  of  eighty  feet  to  the  mile 
to  Sherman,  highest  point  on  the  whole  road,  and  Summit  of 
the  Rocky  Mountains — that  part,  however,  better  known  in 
the  West  as  the  Black  Hills. 


86 


ALKALI    PLAINS.  87 

Thence  the  road  makes  a  vast  bend,  running  rapidly  down- 
ward all  the  time,  for  forty  miles  to  the  new  city  of  Laramie. 
It  had  enjoyed  three  months  of  remarkable  prosperity  as  the 
terminus,  and  had  sprung  from  nothing  to  a  city  of  five  thou- 
sand people  ;  but  the  terminus  town  had  just  been  moved  a 
hundred  miles  farther  west  to  Benton,  and  Laramie,  in  the 
sixth  month  of  its  existence,  was  entering  on  a  sickly  old  age. 
After  two  days  there  I  boarded  a  construction  train  for  the 
terminus. 

Westward  the  grassy  plain  yields  rapidly  to  a  desert ;  at 
Medicine  Bow  we  took  final  leave  of  the  last  trace  of  fertility, 
and  traversed  a  region  of  alkali  flats  and  red  ridges  for  fifty 
miles.  In  the  worst  part  of  this  desert,  just  west  of  the  last 
crossing  of  the  Platte,  we  found  Benton,  the  great  terminus 
town,  six  hundred  and  ninety-eight  miles  from  Omaha.  Far 
as  they  could  see  around  the  town  not  a  green  tree,  shrub,  or 
spear  of  grass  was  to  be  seen;  the  red  hills,  scorched  and  bare 
as  if  blasted  by  the  lightnings  of  an  angry  God,  bounded  the 
white  basin  on  the  north  and  east,  while  to  the  south  and  west 
spread  the  gray  desert  till  it  was  interrupted  by  another  range 
of  red  and  yellow  hills.  All  seemed  sacred  to  the  genius  of 
drought  and  desolation.  The  whole  basin  looked  as  if  it 
might  originally  have  been  filled  with  lye  and  sand,  then  dried 
to  the  consistency  of  hard  soap,  with  glistening  surface  tor- 
menting alike  to  eye  and  sense. 

Yet  here  had  sprung  up  in  two  weeks,  as  if  by  the  touch  of 
Aladdin's  Lamp,  a  city  of  three  thousand  people;  there  were 
regular  squares  arranged  into  five  wards,  a  city  government 
of  mayor  and  aldermen,  a  daily  paper,  and  a  volume  of 
ordinances  for  the  public  health.  It  was  the  end  of  the 
freight  and  passenger,  and  beginning  of  the  construction,  divi- 
sion ;  twice  every  day  immense  trains  arrived  and  departed, 
and  stages  left  for  Utah,  Montana,  and  Idaho;  all  the 
goods  formerly  hauled  across  the  plains  came  here  by  rail 
and  were  reshipped,  and  for  ten  hours  daily  the  streets  were 
thronged  with  motley  crowds  of  railroad  men,  Mexicans  and 
Indians,  gamblers,  "cappers,"  and  saloon-keepers,  merchants, 


88  BEAUTIES    OF    BENTON. 

miners,  and  mulewhackers.  The  streets  were  eight  inches  cleej 
in  white  dust  as  I  entered  the  city  of  canvas  tents  and  pole- 
houses  ;  the  suburbs  appeared  as  banks  of  dirty  white  lime, 
and  a  new  arrival  with  black  clothes  looked  like  nothing  so  much 
as  a  cockroach  struggling  through  a  flour  barrel. 

It  was  sundown,  and  the  lively  notes  of  the  violin  and  guitar 
were  calling  the  citizens  to  evening  diversions.  Twenty-three 
saloons  paid  license  to  the  evanescent  corporation,  and  five  dance- 
houses  amused  our  elegant  leisure.  In  this  place  I  wasted  my 
time  for  two  weeks,  waiting  for  something  to  turn  up,  and 
lounged  about  the  places  most  dangerous  to  pocket  and  morals 
with  the  happy  indifference  of  a  man  who  has  nothing  to  lose. 
It  cannot  be  denied,  I  think,  that  the  man  who  has  nothing  is 
much  braver  than  he  who  has  plenty ;  and  I  further  suspect 
the  bravest  of  our  soldiers  will  admit,  that  if,  about  the  time  he 
was  ready  to  advance  on  Yicksburg  or  Richmond,  he  had 
learned  that  some  obliging  old  relative  had  conveniently  died, 
after  leaving  him  $50,000,  his  appetite  for  fight  would  suddenly 
have  lost  much  of  its  edge. 

The  regular  routine  of  business,  dances,  drunks  and  fist- 
fights  met  with  a  sudden  interruption  on  the  8th  of  August. 
Sitting  in  a  tent  door  that  day  I  noticed  an  altercation  across  the 
street,  and  saw  a  man  draw  a  pistol  and  fire,  and  another  stag- 
ger and  catch  hold  of  a  post  for  support.  The  first  was  about 
to  shoot  again  when  he  was  struck  from  behind  and  the  pistol 
wrenched  from  his  hand.  The  wounded  man  was  taken  into  a 
cyprian's  tent  near  by  and  treated  with  the  greatest  kindness  by 
the  women,  but  died  the  next  day.  It  was  universally  admit- 
ted that  there  had  been  no  provocation  for  the  shooting,  and  the 
general  voice  was,  "  Hang  him  !  " 

Next  day  I  observed  a  great  rush  and  cry  in  the  street,  and 
looking  out,  saw  them  dragging  the  murderer  along  towards  the 
tent  where  the  dead  man  lay.  The  entire  population  were  out 
at  once,  plainsmen,  miners  and  women  mingled  in  a  wild  throng, 
all  insisting  on  immediate  hanging.  Pale  as  a  sheet  and 
hardly  able  to  stand,  the  murderer,  in  the  grasp  of  two  stalwart 
Vigilantes,  was  dragged  through  the  excited  crowd,  and  into  the 


i AM; INC,   SPOILED. 




89 


IN  THE  HANDS  OF 


VIGILANTES. 


tent  where  the  dead  man  lay,  and  forced  to  witness  the  laying 
out  and  depositing  in  the  coffin. 

What  was  the  object  of  this  movement  nobody  knew,  but  the 
delay  was  fatal  to  the  hanging  project.  Benton  had  lately  been 
decided  to  be  in  the  military  reservation  of  Fort  Steele,  and 
that  day  the  General  commanding  thought  fit  to  send  a  pro- 
vost guard  into  the  city.  They  arrived  just  in  time,  rescued  the 
prisoner  and  took  him  to  the  guard-house,  whence,  a  week  after, 
he  escaped. 

But  the  excitement  thus  aroused  seemed  to  have  created  a 
thirst  for  blood.  I  had  just  retired  to  the  tent  when  I  heard  a 


90 

series  of  fearful  screams,  and  running,  to  the  door,  saw  the  pro- 
prietor of  a  saloon  opposite  beating  his  "  woman."  He  was  a 
leading  ruffian  of  the  city,  and  of  a  hundred  men  looking  on 
not  one  felt  called  upon  to  interfere.  At  length  lie  released  his 
hold,  and  struck  her  a  final  blow  on  the  nose  which  completely 
flattened  that  feature,  and  sent  her  into  the  middle  of  the  street, 
where  she  lay  with  the  blood  gushing  in  torrents  from  her  face, 
mingling  with  the  white  dust  and  streaking  her  clothing  with 
gore.  The  provost  guard  arrived  again,  after  it  was  all  over, 
and  took  the  woman  away,  but  paid  no  attention  to  the  man. 
Four  days  after,  I  saw  them  together  again,  having  apparently 
made  it  up  and  living  on  the  same  free  and  easy  terms  of  ille- 
gal conjugality.  Two  more  rows  wound  up  the  evening,  the 
last  ending  with  a  perfect  fusillade  of  pistol  shots,  by  which 
only  two  or  three  persons  were  "  scratched  "  and  nobody 
"  pinked."  For  a  quiet  railroad  town  I  thought  this  would 
do,  and  began  to  think  of  moving  on. 

The  great  institution  of  Ben  ton  was  the  "  Big  Tent,"  some- 
times, with  equal  truth  but  less  politeness,  called  the  "  Gamblers' 
Tent."  This  structure  was  a  nice  frame,  a  hundred  feet  long 
and  forty  feet  wide,  covered  with  canvass  and  conveniently 
floored  for  dancing,  to  which  and  gambling  it  was  entirely 
devoted.  It  was  moved  successively  to  all  the  mu^iroom  ter- 
minus "cities,"  and  during  my  stay  was  the  ^eat  public  resort 
of  Benton.  A  description  of  •'•<  -so.  towns  is  a  description 

of  all  ;  so  let  us  s^vwu1  one  evening  in  the  "  Big  Tent,"  and  see 
how  mm-  amuse  their  leisure  where  home  life  and  society  are 


As  we  enter,  we  note  that  the  right  side  is  lined  with  a  splen- 
did bar,  supplied  with  every  variety  of  liquors  and  cigars,  with 
cut  glass  goblets,  ice-pitchers,  splendid  mirrors,  and  pictures 
rivalling  those  of  our  Eastern  cities.  At  the  back  end  a  space 
large  enough  for  one  cotillon  is  left  open  for  dancing  ;  on  a 
raised  platform,  a  full  band  is  in  attendance  day  and  night, 
while  all  the  rest  of  the  room  is  filled  with  tables  devoted  to 
monte,  faro,  rondo  coolo,  fortune-wheels,  and  every  other  species 
of  gambling  known.  I  acknowledge  a  morbid  curiosity  relat- 


92 

ing  to  everything  villainous,  and,  though  I  never  ventured  a 
cent  but  once  in  my  life,  I  atn  never  weary  of  watching  the 
game,  and  the  various  fortunes  of  those  who  "  buck  against  the 
tiger." 

During  the  day  the  "  Big  Tent "  is  rather  quiet,  but  at  night, 
after  a  few  inspiring  tunes  at  the  door  by  the  band,  the  long 
hall  is  soon  crowded  with  a  motley  throng  of  three  or  four  hun- 
dred miners,  ranchmen,  clerks,  "  bullwhackers,"  gamblers  and 
"cappers."  The  brass  instruments  are  laid  aside,  the  string- 
music  begins,  the  cotillons  succeed  each  other  rapidly,  each 
ending  with  a  drink,  while  those  not  so  employed  crowd  around 
the  tables  and  enjoy  each  his  favorite  game.  To-night  is  one 
of  unusual  interest,  and  the  tent  is  full,  while  from  every  table 
is  heard  the  musical  rattle  of  the  dice,  the  hum  of  the  wheel,  or 
the  eloquent  voice  of  the  dealer.  Fair  women,  clothed  with 
richness  and  taste,  in  white  and  airy  garments,  mingle  with  the 
throng,  watch  the  games  with  deep  interest,  or  laugh  and  chat 
with  the  players.  The  wife  of  the  principal  gambler — a 
tall,  spiritual  and  most  innocent  looking  woman — sits  by  his 
side,  while  their  children,  two  beautiful  little  girls  of  four  and 
six  years,  run  about  the  room  playing  and  shouting  with  merri- 
ment, climbing  upon  the  knees  of  the  gamblers  and  embraced 
in  their  rude  arms,  like  flowers  growing  on  the  verge  of  frightful 
precipices.  We  take  our  stand  near  the  monte  table,  where  a 
considerable  crowd  gathers,  silently  intent  on  the  motions  of 
the  dealer.  He  throws  three  cards  upon  the  cloth,  points  out 
one  as  the  "  winning  card,"  then  turns  them  face  downward, 
and  proceeds  to  toss  them  about,  talking  fluently  all  the  time. 

"Now,  then,  here  we  go;  my  hand  against  your  eyes. 
Watch  the  ace !  The  ace  is  your  winning  card.  The  eight 
and  ten  spot  win  for  me.  Here  is  the  ace,  the  winning  card 
(turning  it  face  up  occasionally).  Watch  it  close  !  I  have  two 
chances  to  your  one  unless  you  watch  the  ace.  Now,,  then, 
I'll  bet  any  man  twenty  dollars,  as  they  lie,  that  he  can't  pick 
up  the  ace,  and  I'll  not  touch  the  cards  again.  Will  you  go 
twenty  dollars  on  it,  sir?" 

As  he  says  this,  he  turns  his  head  away,  and  addresses  a  man 


93 

at  his  left — a  conservative-looking  neatly-dressed  man,  whom  I 
should  take  for  a  merchant.  But  while  his  head  is  turned,  a 
roughly-dressed,  horny-handed  miner  by  my  side  snatches  over 
the  nearest  card,  satisfies  himself  that  it  is  the  ace,  and  makes  a 
faint  pencil-mark  on  the  back  of  it  before  the  dealer  can  turn 
around.  Then  the  miner  becomes  all  at  once  anxious  to  bet; 
puts  up  all  the  money  he  has — $20 — is  anxious  for  some  one  to 
go  in  with  him  ;  then  pubs  down  a  watch  and  revolver,  valued 
at  $20  each.  The  dealer  covers  the  pile,  the  miner  turns  the 
ace,  and  walks  off  with  a  gain  of  $60.  There  is  a  sensation 
around  the  board.  Old  plainsmen  look  at  each  other  with  a 
peculiar  smile  which  may  mean  anything,  but  others  get  inter- 
ested. The  dealer  curses  his  bad  luck,  and  continues  to  throw 
the  cards,  and  now  the  pencil-mark  seems  plain  on  the  back  of 
the  ace.  As  soon  as  the  cards  are  laid  down  a  young  fellow  of 
nineteen  or  twenty,  who  came  on  the  same  train  with  me  from 
Omaha,  hastily  produces  a  ten-dollar  note,  and  offers  to  bet. 
"  Ten  dollars  is  no  money  to  me,  sir/'  says  the  dealer  ;  "  I've 
lost  too  much  to  fool  with  small  bets;  I'll  make  or  break 
to-night.  I  propose  to  bet  forty  dollars  on  this  turn." 

The  boy  has  no  more  money,  but  produces  a  pistol,  which  is 
counted  at  ten  dollars. 

"  I'll  go  halvers  with  him,"  shouts  the  conservative-looking 
chap  at  the  corner  of  the  table,  and  lays  down  the  twenty  dollars. 

The  boy  eagerly  seizes  the  pencil-marked  card,  turns  it,  and, 
to  his  horror  and  amazement,  it  is  not  the  ace,  but  the  ten-spot! 
I  see  the  boy  turning  pale,  for,  as  I  happen  to  know,  it  is  his 
last  ten  dollars,  while  the  dealer  rakes  in  his  pile  and  goes  on 
with  his  harangue.  Not  a  smile,  not  a  chuckle,  not  a  single  ex- 
pression of  triumph  appears  ;  he  has  had  a  simple  business 
transaction,  and  rakes  in  the  money,  coolly,  quietly,  the  same 
affable,  conversable,  stony-eyed  gentleman.  The  game  is  now 
plain.  The  horny-handed  miner,  and  the  dapper,  conservative 
looking  gentleman,  are  "  cappers  ; "  they  have  borne  their  part 
in  the  game,  and  "  hooked  a  gudgeon,"  and  carelessly  stray  off 
to  some  other  table  to'  repeat  the  operation.  The  charm  is 
broken ;  the  little  circle  about  the  monte  table  take  the  alarm 


94  u  THE    HAZARD    OF    A    DIE." 

and  begin  to  scatter,  and  we  walk  down  to  the  "  chuck-a-luck  " 
board.  Here  a  smooth  oil-cloth  is  divided  evenly  into  squares, 
numbered  from  six  to  thirty -six.  On  two-thirds  of  the  numbers 
are  some  articles  of  value,  the  rest  are  blanks.  On  No.  36  is  a 
gold  watch  and  chain,  value  $300,  and  it  is  not  a  sham  either, 
and  on  No.  6  is  a  $100  greenback. 

On  numbers  7,  8  and  9,  and  33,  34  and  35,  are  articles  of 
considerable  value,  none  less  than  $50,  while  the  remaining 
numbers  are  blanks,  or  covered  with  some  article  of  trifling 
value.  Half  a  dollar  is  the  charge  for  a  throw.  The  cup  con- 
tains six  dice.  If  you  throw  all  ones  you  add  up  six,  and  get 
the  hundred  dollars;  if  all  sixes  you  add  up  thirty-six,  and  get 
the  watch  and  chain,  and  the  dealer  will  soon  show  you  how  you 
can  ruin  the  bank,  and  most  learnedly  explains  how  you  have 
just  one  chance  in  thirty  of  getting  the  watch  and  chain,  and 
the  same  of  getting  the  greenback.  But  you  will  see  that  your- 
self. There  are  but  thirty  squares — six  to  thirty-six — and,  of 
course,  you  stand  as  good  a  chance  to  hit  one  as  another.  Do 
you,  though  ?  Try  it  and  see.  If  you  don't  throw  somewhere 
between  twelve  and  twenty-five  for  ninety-nine  times  out  of  a 
hundred,  it  will  be  a  new  fact  in  physics.  And  on  just  those 
numbers  from  twelve  to  twenty-five  are  all  blanks  or  trifling 
articles.  Of  course  you  do  not  see  this  by  first  glance  at  the 
cloth,  for  the  numbers  do  not  run  in  regular  order,  but  in  such 
ingenious  irregularity  that  prizes  and  blanks  all  seem  in  undis- 
tinguishable  order,  side  by  side.  The  dice  are  not  loaded  either. 
You  may  use  your  own  if  you  wish,  and  the  result  is  the  same ; 
and  if  you  have  any  curiosity  about  it,  reader,  just  try  it  with 
six  dice  on  your  own  table,  keep  a  record  of  your  throws,  and 
see  how  seldom  you  will  reach  very  high  or  very  low  numbers. 
And  having  tried  it  thoroughly  for  two  or  three  hundred  throws, 
a  moment's  reflection  will  convince  you  that  it  would  be  little 
short  of  a  miracle  for  a  man  to  throw  all  sixes  or  all  ones  with 
dice  not  loaded.  Then  take  your  thirty  numbers  and  make 
your  calculation  from  the  table  laid  down  in  the  "  theory  of 
probabilities,"  and  you  will  find  there  is  just  one  chance  in 
990,000  that  you  will  throw  the  highest  or  lowest  number.  In 


MORAL  :  DON'T.  95 

other  words,  you  stand  fair  to  get  the  watch  after  nine  hundred 
and  ninety  thousand  throws  at  half  a  dollar  a  throw !  Rather 
an  expensive  watch.  Guess  we  wont  invest.  But  while  we 
stand  here  philosophizing,  the  crowd  is  pressing  to  a  long  table 
at  one  side  where  an  airish  youth  is  shouting  at  the  top  of  his 
voice,  "  Come  down  here  now,  you  rondo  coolo  sports,  and  give 
us  a  bet." 

This  game,  like  keno,  has  less  of  the  "cutthroat"  about  it 
than  the  others.  There  is  a  per  cent.,  small  but  regular,  in 
favor  of  the  dealer;  every  thing  is  carried  by  an  exact  rule,  and 
the  careful  player  can  calculate  just  what  his  chance  is.  But  if 
any  man  imagines  there  is  the  least  measure  of  fairness  in  ordi- 
nary gambling,  let  him  dismiss  the  thought.  I  have  watched 
hundreds  of  ga-mes,  and  never  saw  a  man  gain  a  large  sum  with- 
out learning,  sooner  or  later,  that  he  was  a  "  capper."  The  evening 
wears  along,  many  visitors  begin  to  leave,  the  games  languish, 
and  a  diversion  is  needed.  The  band  gives  a  few  lively  touches, 
and  a  young  man  with  a  capacious  chest  and  a  great  deal  of 
"openness"  to  his  face,  mounts  the  stand  and  sings  a  variety 
of  sentimental  and  popular  songs,  ending  with  a  regular  rouser, 
in  the  chorus  of  which  he  constantly  reiterates — in  other  words 
however — that  he  is  a  bovine  youth  with  a  vitreous  optic 
"  which  nobody  can  deny."  As  he  wears  a  revolver  and  bowie- 
knife  in  plain  view,  nobody  seems  inclined  to  deny  it.  A  lively 
dance  follows,  the  crowd  is  enlivened,  and  gambling  goes  on 
with  renewed  vigor. 


CHAPTER  V. 

ON   A    MULE. 

A  new  profession — Off  for  Salt  Lake  City — A  Mormon  outfit — Nature  of  the  over- 
land freight — Its  extent — Great  expenses  and  enormous  profits — Luxury  of 
miners  and  mountaineers — Changed  to  the  railroad — "  Kiting  towns" — Jonah's 
gourd — Benton  a  year  afterwards — Platte  City — Our  company — Mule  whacker's 
Theology — Pleasant  gossip  on  polygamy — Journal  of  the  route — Horrors^  of 
Bitter  Creek — Heat,  cold,  thirst,  dust,  fatigue — Green  River — Bridger  Plains — 
Echo  Canon — Weber  Canon — Parley's  Park — Down  Parley's  Canon — Salt  Lake 
Valley  and  City. 

'ATE:  August  14th,  1868.  Place:  Benton,  Wyoming. 
Scene  :  The  writer  in  the  rear  apartment  of  a  tent,  post- 
ing his  books.  Results  :  Cash  on  hand  $8.65;  Resources 
none ;  Friends  distant.  Moral :  Something  must  be  done. 
Thus  may  be  summarized  the  result  of  a  day's  hard 
thinking.  I  had  got  thus  far,  more  by  good  luck  than  good  man- 
agement; was  wonderfully  improved  in  health,  and  eager  to  goon. 
But  when  I  resolved  myself  into  a  committee  of  one  on  the  ways 
and  means,  the  committee  was  obliged  to  rise  and  report  the  mat- 
ter back  without  a  resolution.  I  had  written  six  letters  to  the 
Commercial,  but  did  not  know  whether  any  had  been  accepted,  and 
was  not  well  enough  acquainted  to  ask  a  remittance  ;  and  there 
was  absolutely  nothing  for  me  to  do  at  Benton. 

One  resource  remained.  Teamsters  were  in  demand,  and  I 
thought  I  knew  something  about  mules.  Under  ordinary  cir- 
cumstances I  should  have  shrunk  from  boasting  myself  skilful 
enough  to  drive  them,  but  these  were  extraordinary  circumstan- 
ces, and  as  the  Turks  say  to  justify  the  use  of  wine,  "  Desperate 
diseases  require  desperate  remedies."  The  resolution  passed, 
with  an  emergency  clause,  and  I  started  to  hunt  a  job. 

A  Mormon  train  was  to  start  next  day,  and  just  one  man 
96 


98  LUXURIOUS    MINERS. 

was  needed.  The  outfit  consisted  of  ten  "prairie  schooners" 
with  six  mules  to  each,  the  property  of  Naisbitt  and  Hindley — 
then  a  prosperous  Mormon  firm  in  Salt  Lake  City.  Our 
"  wagon  -boss,"  absolute  monarch  of  a  train  while  on  the  road, 
rejoiced  in  the  name  of  John  Monkins,  a  Mormon  saint  in  good 
and  regular  standing.  Seven  of  the  drivers  were  Mormons, 
but  the  "  night-herder,"  Billy  Keyes,  and  two  other  drivers, 
Charley  Robinson  and  "Big  Frank,"  were  Gentiles,  with  whom 
I  fraternized  readily.  Our  load  was  "  packed,"  and  about  noon 
of  the  15th,  we  took  to  the  road,  the  writer  seated  on  his  "nigh- 
wheeler,"  and  wielding  a  "  big-bellied  blacksnake "  over  the 
backs  of  six  mules. 

Freighting  across  the  plains,  which  had  grown  in  the  past 
ten  years  to  an  immense  business,  was  now  being  rapidly  less- 
ened by  the  railroad.  From  1860  to  1869  there  were  in  Utah, 
Nevada,  Idaho,  Montana  and  Colorado,  two  hundred  thousand 
people  to  be  supplied;  and  every  pound  of  groceries,  manufac- 
tured goods,  foreign  products,  mining  tools  and  the  like,  had  to 
be  hauled  from  six  to  sixteen  hundred  miles  across  the  uninhabited 
regions  which  lay  between  the  Missouri  and  the  gold  mines. 
The  original  price,  of  course,  was  a  trifle;  the  freight,  which 
ranged  from  fifteen  to  forty  cents  a  pound,  was  the  chief  item 
of  cost.  Hence  the  apparent  paradox,  that  the  difference  between 
first  and  second  rate  articles  was  comparatively  much  less  than 
in  the  East.  Hence  again,  the  fact  that  when  the  miner  or 
mountaineer  used  foreign  luxuries  at  all,  he  used  only  the  best 
quality;  for  the  freight  was  no  more  on  that  than  the  worst. 
The  difference  between  crushed  white  sugar  at  twenty  cents,  and 
common  brown  at  ten,  was  all  important  to  the  Eastern  family  ; 
but  when  one  added  thirty  cents  a  pound  for  freight,  and  a  hun- 
dred per  cent,  for  dealer's  profit,  the  difference  was  not  worth 
calculating  about  away  up  in  Montana.  Business  men  neces- 
sarily invested  large  capital,  and  took  big  risks,  and  so  indemni- 
fied themselves  with  enormous  profits.  The  best  was  cheaper 
than  the  second  best.  Hence  also,  an  apparent  extravagance  in 
living,  of  which  the  effects  show  to-day  in  Rocky  Mountain 
communities. 


MOVING   HEAL   ESTATE.  99 

This  overland  trade  successively  built  up  Independence, 
Westport,  Kansas  City,  Atchison,  Leaven  worth,  St.  Joseph  and 
Omaha ;  but  when  two  or  three  hundred  miles  of  the  railroad 
were  completed,  it  took  that  route.  Hence  those  "roaring 
towns/'  at  the  successive  termini,  which  sprang  up  like  Jonah's 
gourd,  and  withered  away  with  few  exceptions  almost  as  sud- 
denly, when  Government  had  accepted  another  hundred  miles 
of  the  road,  and  a  new  terminus  was  located.  To  look  on  Ben- 
ton,  a  motley  collection  of  log  and  canvass  tents,  one  would  have 
sworn  there  was  no  trade;  but  in  those  canvass  tents  immense 
sums  changed  hands.  E.  Block  &  Co.,  Wholesale  Dealers,  in 
Liquors  and  Tobacco,  with  whom  I  lodged  in  Benton,  in  a 
frame  and  canvass  tent,  twenty  by  forty  feet  in  extent,  did  a 
business  of  $30,000  a  month.  Others  did  far  better.  Ten. 
months  afterwards,  I  revisited  the  site.  There  was  not  a  house 
or  tent  to  be  seen;  a  few  rock  piles  and  half  destroyed  chimneys 
barely  sufficed  to  mark  the  ruins;  the  white  dust  had  covered 
everything  else,  and  desolation  reigned  supreme. 

Transactions  in  real  estate  in  all  these  towns  were,  of  course, 
most  uncertain  ;  and  everything  that  looked  solid  was  a  sham. 
Red  brick  fronts,  brown  stone  fronts,  and  stuccoed  walls,  were 
found  to  have  been  made  to  order  in  Chicago  and  shipped  in 
(pine)  sections.  Ready  made  houses  were  finally  sent  out  in 
lots,  boxed,  marked,  and  numbered ;  half  a  dozen  men  could 
erect  a  block  in  a  day,  and  two  boys  with  screw-drivers  put  up 
a  "habitable  dwelling"  in  three  hours.  A  very  good  gray- 
stone  stucco  front,  with  plain  sides,  twenty  by  forty  tent,  could 
be  had  for  $300;  and  if  your  business  happened  to  desert  you, 
or  the  town  moved  on,  you  only  had  to  take  your  store  to 
pieces,  ship  it  on  a  platform  car  to  the  next  city,  and  set  up 
again.  There  was  a  pleasing  versatility  of  talent  in  the  popula- 
tion of  such  towns. 

An  army  officer  told  me  that  he  went  up  the  Platte  Valley 
late  in  1866  and  observed  a  piece  of  rising  ground  near  the 
junction  of  the  two  streams,  where  for  miles  not  a  live  shrub 
or  blade  of  grass  was  to  be  seen.  Six  months  after  he  returned 
and  the  "  Great  and  Growing  City  of  the  Platte  "  covered  the 

IJ~«.rt 


100  MOVING    A    CITY. 

site;  three  thousand  people  made  the  desert  hum  with  business 
and  pleasure ;  there  were  fine  hotels,  elegant  restaurants,  and 
billiard  halls  and  saloons,  while  a  hundred  merchants'jostled  each 
other  through  banks  and  insurance  offices.  All  tiie  machinery 
of  society  was  in  easy  operation ;  there  were  two  daily  papers,  a 
Mayor  and  Common  Council,  an  aristocracy  and  a  common 
people,  with  old  settlers,  new  comers,  and  first  families.  Six 
months  after  he  returned  and  hunted  for  the  site.  A  few  piles 
of  straw  and  brick,  with  debris  of  oyster  cans  nearly  covered  by 
the  shifting  sands,  alone  enabled  him  to  find  it.  The  "city  " 
had  got  up  and  emigrated  to  the  next  terminus. 

Our  trip  was  one  of  unusual  hardship,  mingled  with  much 
that  was  novel  and  amusing.  For  three  hundred  miles  west  of 
Medicine  Bow  the  country  is  the  real  "American  Desert."  The 
surface  seems  hard  enough  at  first  view,  but  a  little  travel  soon 
works  it  up  into  a  fine  powder ;  and  standing  on  a  little  knoll 
one  can  see  for  twenty  miles  the  white  clouds  of  rolling  dust 
which  mark  the  course  of  teams,  and  an  approaching  "  bull- 
whacker"  looks  at  a  little  distance  like  an  animated  flour  suck, 
or  the  disembodied  spirit  of  Metamora.  Our  little  party  of 
sixteen  (four  passengers),  fraternized  much  more  readily  than 
one  could  have  expected  from  such  a  motley  crew.  On  the 
plains  mutual  dependence  calls  for  mutual  help,  and  mutual 
help  softens  religious  and  national  asperities.  We  had  both. 
The  Mormons  were  half  English  and  half  natives;  the  Gentiles 
half  Northern  and  half  Southern.  Religiously  the  Gentiles 
were  in  the  minority,  but  did  the  most  talking.  The  native 
Mormon  boys,  who  had  never  been  east  of  Beuton,  were  full 
of  curiosity  about  the  States.  From  the  general  tone  of  Mor- 
mon sermons,  they  had  imbibed  the  notion  that  outside  of 
Utah  the  world  was  given  over  to  fraud  and  lasciviousness,  and 
sold  wholly  to  Satan.  That  a  majority,  or  anything  like  a 
"working  minority"  of  the  American  people  were  honest  and 
virtuous,  was  something  they  were  slow  to  believe ;  and  that 
there  were  rural  districts  of  ten  thousand  people  where  grogshops 
were  unknown  and  a  lewd  woman  a  rarity,  was  nothing  short 
of  a  "  monstrous  Gentile  lie"  to  their  minds.  That  all  govern- 


A    MULEWHACKP;IIS'    DEBATE. 


101 


NIGHT-SCHOOL  OF    THEOLOGY. 


merits  but  their  own,  and  all  people  but  themselves  are  going 
straight  to  the  Devil,  and  that  by  the  fastest  route,  is  a  fixed 
fact  to  orthodox  Mormons ;  and  these  lads  had  grown  up  in 
such  an  atmosphere  of  self-sufficiency  and  spiritual  pride,  that 
the  mere  assertion  that  the  Mormons  were  not  the  best  people 
in  the  world  struck  them  as  a  blasphemous  absurdity.  And 
yet  they  sometimes  felt,  instinctively,  I  suppose,  that  some- 
thing was  wrong;  and  that  polygamy  at  any  rate  needed  apolo- 
gizing for. 

Toiling  wearily  across  the  plains  of  Bridger,  one  day,  walk- 
ing beside  our  teams,  the  one  next  me  who3  at  the  early  age  of 


102  POLEMICAL   TEAMSTERS. 

twenty-two  was  already  an  elder,  delivered  an  exhaustive 
ment  in  regard  to  the  finding  of  the  "golden  plates"  by  JOQ 
Smith,  to  which  I  promptly  made  reply : 

"  Don't  believe  it.     No  proof." 

"Do  you  believe  Moses  got  stone  tables  from  the  Lord?" 
asked  the  young  elder.  (Excuse  the  contradiction  between  ad- 
jective and  noun.) 

"Yes." 

"Where's  your  proof?" 

This  struck  me  as  the  nearest  to  a  "clincher"  of  all  I  had  heard, 
and  I  launched  into  an  elaborate  argument  on  the  history  of 
the  Bible,  internal  proofs,  analysis  of  its  principles  and  the 
like;  but  it  was  all  Greek  to  him.  And  so  such  arguments 
must  always  be  to  such  as  fill  the  Mormon  Church.  Truly,  says 
Eggleston :  "No  man  ever  embraced  religious  error,  from 
Gnosticism  to  Mormonism,  without  a  previous  mental  training 
to  fit  him  for  it;"  and  he  might  have  added,  a  previous  want 
of  training  generally  predisposes  a  man  to  coarse  and  sensual 
beliefs.  Reason  appears  to  be  wasted  on  those  sects  who  have 
just  knowledge  enough  to  read  the  Bible  and  interpret  it  lite- 
rally, without  enough  to  realize  that  certain  principles  of  natural 
equity  must  always  remain  true,  no  matter  what  the  Bible  may 
appear  to  say  on  the  subject.  Such  did  not  reason  themselves 
into  their  errors,  and  of  course,  cannot  be  reasoned  out.  And 
so  our  Mormon  companions  always  thought  they  had  the  "best 
of  the  argument." 

Fanatics  always  do  have  the  "best  of  the  argument" — in 
their  own  conceit.  For  they  can  understand  their  own  reason- 
ing, and  cannot  understand  that  of  an  intelligent  opponent. 
In  Utah  one  continually  hears  such  statements  as  this:  "Why 
don't  they  answer  our  arguments?  They  can't."  One  can  go 
into  any  lunatic  asylum  in  the  land,  and  find  a  score  of  men 
whose  arguments  he  cannot  answer — to  their  satisfaction. 

There  is  a  fish  called  the  mullet-head,  that  cannot  be  in- 
toxicated by  any  amount  of  liquor.  It  can  even  swim  in  that 
fluid.  Reason  why  :  it  has  no  brains,  consequently  nothing  for 
the  alcohol  to  act  upon.  In  like  manner  some  sects  are  invinci- 
ble in  argument. 


ROMANCE   OF    POLYGAMY.  103 

But  we  had  one  young  saint  not  at  all  troubled  with  rever- 
ence for  the  dignitaries,  who  professed  to  give  us  a  revelation  of 
the  home  life  of  all  the  Latter-day  Prophets.  He  told  us  that 
Brigham,  when  in  his  prime,  habitually  fell  in  love  every 
spring  and  fall.  Botanically  speaking,  his  affection  was  a  sort 
of  flowering  annual,  clinging  to  new  supports  each  time.  Also 
that  he  then  kept  a  registry,  ruled  for  two  hundred  schedules, 
specifying  name  and  style,  which  he  called  every  Saturday 
night  to  see  that  none  were  lost,  strayed,  or  stolen.  Our  boy 
ran  over  the  list  thus  :  "  Black -eyed  Sally,  Red-headed  Milly, 
Carroty  Jane,  Sally  No.  2,"  etc.,  etc. 

But  of  all  his  heroes  it  appeared  to  me  that  Apostle  Sammy 
Richards  truly  had,  as  our  companion  expressed  it,  "  the  softest 
layout  in  the  business."  He  had  seven  wives,  and  spent  one 
day  in  the  week  with  each.  His  office  kept  him  comfortably 
supplied  with  clothing,  and  each  wife  would  exert  herself  to 
set  her  best  table  when  he  came  around  ;  she  would  be  all 
smiles  and  favors  to  win  as  much  of  the  dear  man's  love  as 
possible,  and  thus  Sammy's  existence  was  a  perpetual  round  of 
courtship. 

With  such  domestic  romance,  varied  by  song  and  story,  we 
amused  the  evening  hours,  while  the  two  cooks  "slung  up  slap- 
jacks "  to  the  extent  of  two  or  three  bushels ;  for  supper  was 
our  only  full  meal,  and  we  had  it  hard  enough  during  the  day. 

The  first  night  we  formed  corral  at  Rawlins'  Springs,  only 
fourteen  miles  from  Benton. 

Here  are  three  large  springs  rising  within  a  few  feet  of  each 
other,  one  pure  water,  another  charged  with  soda,  and  the  third 
with  sulphur.  Next  day  we  left  the  railroad  line  and  made  a 
toilsome  journey  straight  south  over  the  hills,  to  reach  the  old 
stage  road;  but  having  two  wagons  mired  in  an  alkali  marsh, 
made  but  eight  miles,  and  formed  corral  in  a  singular  mountain- 
walled  basin  known  as  "  Dug  Springs."  In  the  centre  was  an 
alkali  lake  of  several  acres,  which,  moved  by  the  evening  breeze, 
looked  like  foaming  soapsuds;  but  on  its  margin  was  a  spring 
of  pure  sweet  water.  The  grass  around  the  lake  was  of  the 
purest  white,  coated  with  alkali  to  the  appearance  of  fancy  frost- 


104  THE   SORROWFUL    WAY. 

work ;  but  near  the  mountains  we  found  good  bunch  grass  for 
our  stock.  For  a  few  days  our  average  elevation  was  7000  feet 
above  sea-level,  and  the  nights  were  extremely  cold.  On  the 
22nd  we  reached  Bridger's  Pass,  and  next  day  entered  on  the 
Bitter  Creek  region — horror  of  overland  teamsters — where  all 
possible  ills  of  western  travel  are  united.  At  daybreak  we  rose, 
stiff  with  cold,  to  catch  the  only  temperate  hour  there  was  for 
driving.  But  by  nine  A.  M.  the  heat  was  most  exhausting.  The 
road  was  worked  up  into  a  bed  of  blinding  white  dust  by  the 
laborers  on  the  railroad  grade,  and  a  gray  mist  of  ash  and  earthy 
powder  hung  over  the  valley,  which  obscured  the  sun,  but  did 
not  lessen  its  heat.  At  intervals  the  "  Twenty-mile  Desert," 
the  "Red  Sand  Desert,"  and  the  "White  Desert"  crossed  our 
way,  presenting  beds  of  sand  and  soda,  through  which  the  half 
choked  men  and  animals  toiled  and  struggled,  in  a  dry  air  and 
under  a  scorching  sky.  In  vain  the  yells  and  curses  of  the 
teamsters  doubled  and  redoubled,  blasphemies  that  one  might 
expect  to  inspire  a  mule  with  diabolical  strength  ;  in  vain  the 
fearful  "  black-snake  "  curled  and  popped  over  the  animals' 
backs,  sometimes  gashing  the  skin,  and  sometimes  raising  welts 
the  size  of  one's  finger.  For  a  few  rods  they  would  struggle  on, 
dragging  the  heavy  load  through  the  clogging  banks,  and  then 
stop  exhausted,  sinking  to  their  knees  in  the  hot  and  ashy  heaps. 
Then  two  of  us  would  unite  our  teams  and,  with  the  help  of 
all  the  rest,  drag  through  to  the  next  solid  piece  of  ground, 
where  for  a  few  hundred  yards  the  wind  had  removed  the  loose 
sand  and  soda,  and  left  bare  the  flinty  and  gravelly  subsoil. 
Thus,  by  most  exhausting  labor,  we  accomplished  ten  or  twelve 
miles  a  day.  Half  an  hour  or  more  of  temperate  coolness  then 
gave  us  respite  till  soon  after  sundown,  when  the  cold  wind 
came  clown,  as  if  in  heavy  volumes,  from  the  snowy  range,  and 
tropic  heat  was  succeeded  by  arctic  cold  with  amazing  sudden- 
ness. On  the  27th  of  August,  one  of  my  mules  twice  fell  ex- 
hausted with  the  heat;  that  night  ice  formed  in  our  buckets  as 
thick  as  a  pane  of  glass. 

We  turned  northward  from  Bitter  Creek  before  reaching  the 
present  railroad  crossing  at  Green  River,  and  on  the  morning 


SCENE  IN  ECHO  CANON. 


105 


106  MORMON    SETTLEMENTS. 

of  August  28th,  forded  the  latter  stream  twenty  miles  above 
the  main  road.  Thence  we  again  turned  southwest,  traversing 
the  plains  of  Bridger,  and  entering  again  on  the  stage  road 
near  Bear  River.  The  whole  region  appears  to  my  eye  totally 
barren,  but  among  the  foothills,  and  in  a  few  of  the  gulches, 
we  found  enough  of  the  yellow  bunch-grass  for  our  animals, 
and  sage-brush  for  our  fires.  The  nights  were  still  cold,  but 
not  so  much  so  as  east  of  Green  River ;  and  some  stimulating 
property  in  the  atmosphere  enabled  me  to  get  along  with  half 
the  usual  amount  of  sleep.  We  slept  upon  the  ground  under 
the  wagons,  generally  with  a  thickness  of  gunnysacks  under  us, 
joining  blankets  two  and  two;  for  though  the  ground  was  dry 
as  a  featherbed,  our  sleeping  apartment  was  rather  open  at  the 
sides  and  extensively  ventilated.  My  bed-fellow  was  a  lank 
Mormon  with  about  as  much  bodily  warmth  as  a  dried  corn- 
stalk, nevertheless  he  used  to  complain  that  I  "snugged  up"  al- 
together too  much,  and  by  morning  usually  had  him  jammed 
tight  against  the  hind  wheel. 

At  noon  of  September  4th,  we  entered  the  head  of  Echo 
Cafion,  by  way  of  the  round  valley  below  Cache  Cave,  a  beau- 
tiful and  romantic  place.  Two  days  we  consumed  in  the  journey 
down  Echo,  sometimes  down  almost  in  the  bed  of  the  stream, 
and  sometimes  hundreds  of  feet  up  the  rocky  sides,  where  the 
road  wound  in  and  out  on  the  face  of  the  projecting  ridges. 
Gangs  of  Mormon  laborers  were  scattered  along  the  cailon,  con- 
structing the  grade  for  the  railroad,  on  Brigham  Young's  con- 
tract. At  noon  of  the  6th,  we  emerged  into  Weber  Cailon,  and 
turned  southward  on  the  old  stage  road.  There  we  found  nu- 
merous Mormon  settlements,  and  the  first  stone-built  houses  and 
growing  crops  I  had  seen  for  five  hundred  miles.  The  dwel- 
lings would  have  appeared  poor  and  mean  indeed  in  the  States, 
but  to  us,  just  from  the  hot  and  barren  plains,  the  valley  seemed 
like  a  section  of  paradise.  Next  night  we  formed  corral  near 
Bill  Kimball's  hotel,  in  Parley  Park,  a  round  green  valley  al- 
most on  top  of  the  Wasatch  Mountains;  and  on  the  8th  com- 
pleted half  the  passage  down  the  wild  and  ragged  gorge  known 
as  Parley's  Caflon. 


NBA  RING   "  ZION. 


107 


Late  afternoon  on  the  9th  we  emerged  from  Parley's  Caflon 
upon  the  "  Eastern  Bench,"  and  saw  the  great  valley  of  the  Jor- 
dan and  Salt  Lake  spreading  seventy  miles  to  the  northwest. 
Twenty  miles  west  the  Oquirrh  Range  glowed  in  the  clear  air, 
a  shining  mass  of  blue  and  white;  Great  Salt  Lake  extended 
far  as  the  eye  could  reach  to  the  northward,  its  surface  level  as 
in  a  dead  calm,  and  glistening  in  the  light  of  the  declining  sun, 
while  to  our  right  the  "City  of  the  Saints"  as  yet  appeared 
but  a  white  spot  on  the  view.  A  few  miles  to  our  left  the 
Caflon  of  the  Jordan  seemed  to  close,  giving  the  impression 
that  that  stream  poured  down  from  the  hills ;  and  down  the 
centre  of  the  valley  the  river  and  bordering  marshes  extended 
like  bands  of  silver. 

We  were  nearing  "Zion"  at  last,  and  Mormon  and  Gentile 
were  equally  delighted  that  the  long  drive  of  four  hundred 
miles  was  soon  to  end.  Darkness  overtook  us  four  miles  out, 
and  we  formed  corral  for  the  last  time  on  the  level  near  the 
"  Sugar  House." 


;KATHER    OPEN  AT   THE  SIDES/' 


CHAPTER    VI. 

A   YEAR   IN   UTAH. 

Discharging  freight^-"  Beautiful  Zion  "—First  impressions—"  Our  Bishop  " — 
Arguments  (?)  for  polygamy — Rough  on  Rome — Mormon  "Worthies — Jews,  Gen- 
tiles, and  Apostates — Queer  condition  of  American  citizens — "  Millennial  Star  " 
and  "  Book  of  Mormon  " — The  original  carpet-baggers — "  Jaredites  " — Mormon, 
sermons — Into  the  country — A  polemic  race — Mormon  conference — "  No  trade 
with  Gentiles  " — A  hard  winter — I  become  a  Gentile  editor — Founding  of  Co- 
rinne — Glowing  anticipations — "  The  Chicago  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  " — Tips 
and  downs  of  real  estate — The  Author  comes  to  grief. 

E  entered  the  city  September  10th,  and  even  now  my 
arms  ache  at  recollection  of  the  day,  and  our  eight 
hours'  work  of  unloading.  For  overland  transporta- 
tion goods  were  tightly  packed  in  huge  bales,  heavy 
and  unwieldy ;  and  furthermore,  most  of  our  load  con- 
sisted of  stoves  and  castings.  To  lift  against  an  average  "  mule- 
whacker"  on  such  freight  was  no  joke  to  a  man  of  my  calibre, 
and  aching  in  every  limb  I  sought  a  "Teamster's  Home"  at 
dark,  and  lay  down  to  a  heavy  sleep  of  ten  hours. 

I  awoke  to  a  revelation  of  beauty.  "  Zion  "  then  seemed  to 
me  indeed  the  joy  of  the  whole  earth.  The  bright  sunlight, 
streaming  through  the  rugged  gaps  of  the  Wasatch,  cast  a  flood 
of  glory  upon  the  city,  and  showed  the  plat  marked  out  like  a 
checker-board,  and  streams  clear  as  crystal  lacing  all  the  squares 
with  flowing  borders.  I  thought  it  the  most  beautiful  place  I 
had  ever  seen.  And  failing  to  note  that  nearly  all  this  beauty 
was  of  nature's  making,  it  appeared  to  me  that  they  could  not 
be  a  bad  people  who  occupied  such  a  place;  I  was  prepared 
beforehand  to  like  them. 

It  was  a  nice  place  to  rest,  and  I  concluded  to  stay  two  weeks. 
The  city  had  a  singularly  quiet  Sabbath-like  air,  and  the  people 
108 


PL.UKALITY. 


109 


SALT    LAKE    CITY   (FROM   THE   NORTH). 

still  more  so;  they  were  demure,  subdued  in  demeanor, and  did 
not  look  as  if  they  could  ever  be  excited.  They  were  the  last 
people  I  should  have  suspected  of  fanaticism.  I  called  first 
upon  "  our  Bishop,"  for  so  even  the  Gentiles  then  spoke  of  the 
presiding  bishop  of  the  Ward.  Without  waiting  for  a  banter 
he  entered  at  once  upon  a  wordy  defense,  eulogy  rather,  of  Mor- 
mouism  and  "  plurality  " — Mormon  euphemism  for  polygamy. 
A  rose  by  any  other  name  apparently  would  not  smell  as  sweet 
in  Utah. 

And  such  an  argument:  "  Plurality  was  the  original  order 
of  marriage  established  by  God.  Laws  against  it  were  all  of 
man's  device,  and  first  set  up  by  Rome.  It  was  because  that 
city  was  settled  by  robbers  and  runaways,  and  of  course  they 
had  very  few  women.  Women  were  so  scarce  that  a  law  was 
made  that  no  man  should  have  more  than  one,  and  that  was  the 
origin  of  monogamy,  and  the  first  law  ever  made  against  the 
Celestial  Order  of  Marriage.  The  Church  of  Rome  took  that 


110  "GENTILE  LIES." 


ORSON    FRATT,   ONE  OF  THE  TWELVE   APOSTLES. 

law  from  Heathen  Rome,  and  the  sects  of  the  day,  which  are 
Rome's  daughters,  took  the  law  from  Catholic  Rome.  But  all 
the  churches  established  by  God  have  always  practised  plurality." 

Before  the  enunciation  of  such  history  (?)  as  this  one  can  only 
gape  and  remain  silent.  But  after  a  breathing  spell  I  endea- 
vored to  quote  authorities  to  the  effect  that  Greece  was  mono- 
gam  ic  centuries  before  Rome  was  founded ;  but  the  bishop 
promptly  squelched  me: 

"Them  histories  is  nothing  but  Gentile  lies,  and  the  writers 
priests  and  tools  of  Rome.  In  fact  there  is  no  real  history  come 
down  from  the  time  when  Rome  ruled — all  fixed  up  lies  to 
justify  the  Pope,  and  all  the  sects  of  the  day  wont  publish 
nothing  but  what  suits  their  creed."  This  summary  suppression 
of  history  of  course  ended  the  argument.  But  the  zealous 
bishop,  warmed  by  his  triumph,  enlarged  on  the  subject: 

"There's  no  priest  or  preacher  among  the  sects  that's  really 
authorized  to  solemnize  a  marriage — none  outside  of  the  Latter- 
day  Saints.  Where's  your  preacher's  authority  ?  Can  you 
trace  it  back  to  anything?  No  man's  a  right  to  administer  the 


NOTABLES   OF  SALT   LAKE   CITY. 


Ill 


GEORGE  A.   SMITH. 

Gospel  ordinances  unless  he's  specially  sent.  You've  six  hun- 
dred and  sixty-six  sects — now,  they  can't  all  be  right.  Which 
one  of  them  can  show  credentials ?  They've  all  gone  astray; 
with  the  form  of  godliness  but  denying  the  power.  There  was 
no  prophet  or  authorized  teacher  on  earth  for  eighteen  centuries. 
But  Joseph  Smith  was  called  to  re-establish  the  true  priesthood. 
Alexander  Campbell  was  a  sort  of  fore-runner — like  John,  the 
Baptist,  before  Christ.  But  he  had  only  a  glimmering  of  the 
truth," — and  so  on,  ad  nauseam.  Is  it  worth  one's  while  to 
argue  with  men  who  are  in  such  an  intellectual  muddle? 

I  called  on  various  other  worthies.  First  on  Orson  Pratt, 
whom  I  found  deep  in  an  astronomical  work,  and  not  inclined 
to  talk  ;  also  on  George  A.  Smith,  President's  Councilor,  Elder, 
Historian,  etc.,  a  round,  fat  and  unctuous  man  with  a  pig-eye 
and  soaj)  fat  chin,  and  on  his  colleague  Daniel  H.  Wells,  Mayor, 
Second  Councilor  and  Lieutenant  General — a  gaunt  and  angular 
Saint,  whose  face  and  head  bore  involuntary  witness  to  the  truth 
of  Darwinism.  Also  on  Hon.  Wr.  H.  Hooper,  a  slim  and  ner- 
vous Saint,  monogamous  Delegate  to  Congress  from  this  poly- 


112  MORMON   LITERATURE. 

garaous  Territory ;  and  T.  B.  H.  Stenhouse,  editor  of  a  secular 
paper,  the  Daily  Telegraph,  who  seemed  to  be  a  sort  of  guerilla 
captain  in  the  church  militant,  in  no  particular  hurry  to  join  the 
church  triumphant,  and  quite  indifferent  as  to  whether  I  favored 
Mormonism  or  not.  He  treated  me  most  courteously  as  a 
brother  of  the  quill,  and  as  I  listened  to  his  jolly  tones,  I  little 
thought  we  were  soon  to  become  such  savage  opponents — on 
paper. 

The  Gentiles  I  found  non-committal.  They  did  not  know 
exactly  what  was  about  to  happen.  They  numbered  but  six  or 
eight  hundred  in  a  community  of  fifteen  thousand  Mormons, 
surrounded  by  sixty  or  seventy  thousand  more ;  and  the  heads 
of  the  church  were  even  then  concerting  measures  to  deprive 
them  of  their  trade.  They  consisted,  in  nearly  equal  numbers, 
of  Jews,  Christians,  and  apostates,  all  in  the  same  society,  and 
supporting  the  same  school  and  church.  The  jo.ke  about  Utah 
being  the  only  place  where  Jews  are  Gentiles,  is  an  uncommonly 
good  one,  it  has  the  merit  of  a  fine  old  age.  But  it  is  true  in 
more  senses  than  is  generally  imagined  ;  the  Jews  in  Utah  are 
the  most  intensely  American,  and  opposed  to  polygamy  of  any 
part  of  the  population. 

At  odd  hours  I  read  the  Millennial  Star  and  "  Book  of  Mor- 
mon," the  last  the  Old  Testament/>f  the  Latter-day  Saints.  I  read 
how  Lemuel,  Lehi,  Nephi  and  other  Israelites,  being  warned 
of  God  in  a  dream,  left  Jerusalem  six  hundred  years  before 
Christ ;  traveled  eastward  many  years  till  they  reached  the  sea, 
then  made  a  wonderful  vessel,  and  crossed  it ;  landing  in  Central 
America,  called  in  the  record  the  "  Land  of  Promise."  And 
then  is  recorded  a  real  miracle :  "  And  we  did  find  in  the  forests 
all  manner  of  animals  both  wild  and  tame,  both  the  horse  and 
the  ass,  and  the  sheep  and  the  ox"  They  found  the  horse 
two  thousand  years  before  the  Spaniards  introduced  him  here, 
and  the  ass,  which  naturalists  have  always  told  us  was  not 
native  to  this  country. 

They  spread  over  America  in  a  few  generations,  finding  in 
many  places  the  remains  of  the  "Jaredites" — a  colony  which 
had  come  immediately  after  the  dispersion  from  Babel;  and  by 


1       •  '  ~ "  '  <] 


¥     '  liiiiilliil 


QUEER   EMIGRATION.  113 

revelation  learned  that  they  had  been  "destroyed  for  their  ex- 
ceeding great  wickedness/7  which  matters  fill  the  "Book  of 
Jared,"  and  two  or  three  others.  And  here  conies  in  another 
miracle.  These  people  crossed  the  ocean  in  "  whale-like  barges/1 
made  by  direction  of  the  Lord,  "with  holes  above  and  below," 
under  these  lucid  instructions  :  If  they  needed  air  and  light,  they 
were  to  open  the  holes  above  and  below  (!),  and  if  the  water 
came  in  they  were  to  shut  them  again.  '  The  only  possible  con- 
clusion from  the  cumbrous  sentences  is,  that  the  barges  rolled 
over  and  over  like  tubs,  which  must  have  made  it  uncomfortable 
for  the  Jared  ites. 

Then  the  various  divisions  of  the  transplanted  Hebrews  got 
to  fighting  among  themselves,  and  fought  till  only  two  of  the 
"  righteous  race  "  were  left,  viz :  Mormon  and  Moroni.  They 
two,  about  400  B.  c.,  collected  all  the  histories  of  those  who  had 
preceded  them,  and  added  a  book  apiece,  and  most  curious  of 
all,  we  are  told  it  was  written  in  "Reformed  Egyptian,  which 
is  of  the  language  of  the  Jews  and  the  writing  of  the  Egyptians/' 
though  why  the  mischief  these  Israelites,  who  had  been  in 
America  for  a  thousand  years,  should  give  up  their  own  lan- 
guage and  adopt  that  of  the  Egyptians,  is  enough  to  puzzle 
philologists. 

Sunday  came,  and  six  or  seven  thousand  people  attended  ser- 
vices in  the  huge  Tabernacle — irreverently  styled  by  Gentiles 
the  "  Mud-turtle  " — and  I  among  them.  In  the  afternoon  we 
listened  to  Orson  Pratt,  who  gave  the  people  to  understand  that 
the  city  of  the  Saints  was  a  most  glorious  spot,  but  back  in 
Missouri  was  a  blessed  and  chosen  spot  where  they  would  all  be 
glorified  and  live  a  thousand  years  in  happiness.  But  just  be- 
fore that  time  fury  would  be  poured  out  on  the  Gentile  world, 
and  all  that  were  to  come  would  have  to  make  tracks  to  get  in 
on  time.  He  would  meet  them  all  there ;  yes,  and  the  fishes  of 
the  sea,  and  the  fowls  of  the  air,  and  every  kind  of  cattle  they 
needed.  In  short,  he  gave  them  to  understand  that  they  were 
bully  boys,  and  their  goose  would  finally  hang  high  in  spite  of 
outside  pressure.  And  the  audience  sat  almost  breathless,  with 
8 


114  NORTHERN   UTAH. 

open  eyes  and  mouth,  and  swallowed  it  all  down,  even  as  soap 
suds  run  into  a  sink  hole. 

Utah  in  my  original  plan  was  only  to  be  one  of  several  stop- 
ping places  on  my  way  to  California.  I  expected  to  take  a 
short  rest,  find  another  team  going  out  with  produce  from  the 
fall  crop,  to  drive  to  Austin,  Nevada,  and  thence  work  my  way 
on  to  the  Pacific.  Nothing  was  farther  from  my  thoughts  than 
to  subside  into  a  "  Gentile,"  one  of  that  hated  minority,  who, 
until  quite  lately,  lived  in  Utah  upon  a  sort  of  uncertain  suffer- 
ance. Yet  I  did  become  a  Gentile,  and  a  somewhat  noted 
and  slightly  "  persecuted  "  one  too,  for  a  while ;  and  on  this 
wise. 

Finding  no  teams  ready  to  start  westward,  I  determined  upon 
a  trip  to  the  northern  part  of  the  Territory.  I  traveled  afoot 
and  by  easy  stages  nearly  to  the  Idaho  line,  purposing  a  visit  to 
Soda  Springs ;  then  got  tired,  and  slowly  retraced  my  steps, 
finding  abundant  enjoyment  in  noting  the  manners  and  customs 
of  the  rural  Saints. 

Near  Ogden  I  found  an  old  Dane  living  with  a  mother  and 
two  daughters  as  wives ;  in  Brigham  City  I  saw  a  bishop  with 
six  wives,  two  of  them  his  cousins  and  two  his  nieces,  and  a 
little  farther  on,  visited  another  Dane  living  with  three  wives 
iii  the  single  room  of  a  cabin  about  sixteen  feet  square — all  of 
which  did  not  strike  me  as  exactly  the  highest  type  of  domestic 
felicity  which  might  be  hoped  for  as  the  result  of  two  thousand 
years  of  Christianity  and  cultivation.  As  an  old  bachelor  I 
had  not  found  single  blessedness  the  best  possible  condition,  but 
it  suited  me  far  better  than  such  multiple  cussedness.  One 
wife,  I  thought,  would  be  enough  for  me,  if  she  were  a  good  one ; 
and  if  a  bad  one,  why  should  any  sane  man  multiply  his  misery  ? 
I  found  the  rural  Saints  an  exceedingly  polemic  race ;  they  were 
ready  for  an  argument  any  minute.  No  kind  of  mental  exercise 
is  so  dangerous  as  theological  disputation,  especially  if  a  man 
knows  nothing  else ;  and  the  Mormons  had  all  read  the  Bible, 
and  were  ignorant  of  nearly  all  besides.  But  I  got  interested 
in  them.  Their  absurdly  literal  rendering  of  Scripture  amazed 
and  amused  me,  and  I  began  to  study  their  ways  with  much 


GENTILE   REPORTER.  115 

the  same  kind  of  interest,  morbid  perhaps,  with  which  the 
student  in  anthropology  would  investigate  a  new  phase  of  mono- 
mania. At  that  time  I  knew  little  of  their  history,  or  their 
more  obscene  and  disgusting  tenets,  and  regarded  them  merely 
as  a  curious  class  of  fanatics,  silly  but  harmless.  So  I  returned 
to  the  city  half  persuaded  to  stop  awhile  in  Utah. 

The  October  Conference  of  the  Mormon  Church  was  in  session, 
and  the  people  were  in  a  white  heat  of  hatred  against  the  Gen  tile 
world.  I  had  never  seen  anything  like  it.  The  leaders  had 
concocted  a  plan  for  getting  the  entire  trade  of  the  Territory  into 
a  few  hands,  and  the  first  move  was  to  have  the  people  vote  en 
masse  that  they  would  not  trade  with  Gentile  merchants.  Ten 
thousand  people — all  the  New  Tabernacle  would  hold — adopted 
this  resolution  without  a  dissenting  vote !  To  bring  them  to 
the  proper  degree  of  frenzy  the  speakers  had  recited  the  entire 
history  of  the  Church,  Mormon  version,  and  reopened  every 
wound  that  the  "Lord's  peculiar  people"  had  suffered  for  the 
past  forty  years ;  and  the  result  was  such  a  condition  of  fanatical 
hatred  against  Gentiles  that  the  timid  "smelt  blood  in  the  air," 
and  began  to  talk  of  flight.  But  the  experienced  said.  "  There 
is  no  danger  whatever  in  the  city ;  Brigham  has  too  much  at 
stake  to  allow  trouble  here;  it  is  only  out  in  the  caflons  and 
distant  settlements  that  the  Gentile  may  be  in  danger."  And 
this  I  afterwards  found  to  be  true. 

There  was  a  daily  paper  in  Salt  Lake  City,  in  the  Gentile 
interest,  known  as  the  Reporter.  It  was  about  a  foot  square, 
and  contained  perhaps  as  much  reading  matter  as  four  pages  of 
this  volume.  During  the  excitement  over  Conference  and  its 
decrees,  I  wandered  into  the  office,  and  for  want  of  something  to 
do  wrote  a  few  lines  of  editorial.  The  proprietor,  Mr.  S.  S. 
Saul,  forthwith  suggested  to  me  that  I  try  my  hand  as  editor 
for  a  few  weeks.  The  salary  was  to  be  twenty  dollars  per  week, 
— about  as  good  as  half  that  amount  in  the  States.  I  had  sent 
East  for  money  and  got  no  response ;  my  cash  on  hand  was 
three  dollars,  and  I  was  in  debt  for  a  week's  board  ;  it  is  need- 
less to  add  that  I  accepted  the  magnificent  offer.  The  paper 
was  enlarged  a  column  width  on  each  side.  Mr.  A.  Aulbach, 


116  A   FEEBLE   JOUENAL. 

the  foreman,  was  put  in  charge  of  the  business;  Mr.  Saul  went 
East  to  solicit  advertisements,  and  I  ran  that  paper  to  suit  my- 
self for  seven  weeks.  Saul  then  returned  without  a  dollar's 
worth  of  patronage.  I  had  received  a  hundred  and  fifty  dollars 
from  Mr.  Halstead  for  my  first  fifteen  letters,  I  felt  opulent,  and 
was  eager  to  go  on  to  California.  But  almost  without  knowing 
it,  I  had  slid  into  the  position  of  an  editor;  and  once  there,  my 
destiny  was  fixed.  The  course  of  the  Reporter  had  given  satis- 
faction to  the  Gentiles,  and  when  I  spoke  of  leaving,  they 
bound  me  with  these  flattering  words,  "  We  can't  do  without 
you." 

If  there  ever  was  a  more  sickly  childhood  than  that  of  the 
Salt  Lake  Reporter,  I  never  heard  of  it.  Established  in  May, 
1868,  it  had,  when  I  began  to  edit  it,  just  sixty-nine  paying  sub- 
scribers. When  Saul  returned  from  the  East  we  had  increased 
the  number  two  hundred.  Saul  was  cast  down  ;  Aulbach  and 
I  were  confident.  We  reasoned  after  the  foolishly  sanguine 
manner  of  newspaper  men,  that  if  we  could  do  so  well  for 
another,  we  could  do  ten  times  as  well  for  ourselves — a  com- 
mon conclusion  with  hopeful  youth,  and  one  which  is  not 
necessarily  correct.  Saul  surrendered  the  entire  office  to  Gene- 
ral P.  E.  Connor,  of  whom  he  had  bought  it ;  and  we — A.  Aul- 
bach, John  Barrett,  and  myself — purchased  it.  The  price  was 
$2500,  to  be  paid  at  the  rate  of  $300  a  month.  By  the  most 
heroic  exertions  we  raised  the  first  payment  of  $100  each;  the 
second  was  paid,  I  believe,  some  three  months  after.  Eight 
months  from  the  day  of  sale  the  General  was  pressing  us,  for 
the  third  instalment,  six  months  over  due ;  but  you  cannot 
"  draw  blood  out  of  a  turnip,"  and  he  never  did  get  his  money 
till  both  my  partners  had  sold  out  to  a  man  of  some  wealth. 

I  was  fixed  as  Gentile  editor  in  Salt  Lake,  but  the  Gentiles 
were  in  cruel  straits.  The  decree  of  the  Mormon  Church  had 
been  carried  out  strictly,  and  Gentile  stores  were  empty.  It 
was  amusing  and  provoking  to  take  a  walk  along  Main  Street 
that  winter,  and  see  the  melancholy  Jews  standing  in  the  doors 
of  their  stores  looking  in  vain  for  customers.  For  six  months 
the  ten  Gentile  firms  did  not  sell  one-twentieth  the  usual 


QUEER  LAWS  OF  TRADE.  117 

amount  of  goods;  their  disgust  was  beyond  expression,  and 
their  curses  against  Brigham  not  loud  but  deep.  It  is  indeed  a 
singular  fact,  to  the  Eastern  reader  quite  incomprehensible,  that 
one  man  should  be  able  by  his  simple  will  to  corral  the  commerce 
of  ninety-thousand  people,  nullify  the  laws  of  trade,  reverse  the 
popular  current  in  favor  of  certain  dealers,  and  completely  ruin 
the  business  of  a  score  of  merchants;  and  yet  that  is  precisely 
what  was  done  in  Utah.  There  was  no  great  violence,  nothing 
that  the  law  could  take  cognizance  of,  nothing  that  would  make 
much  of  a  showing  before  a  Congressional  Committee;  and  yet 
to  the  sufferers  it  was  actual  "  persecution,"  fully  as  hard  as  any 
the  Mormons  have  any  just  reason  to  complain  of. 

One  by  one  the  Gentile  merchants  lost  heart  and  emigrated. 
The  leading  firm  was  that  of  Walker  Brothers;  four  gentlemen, 
now  worth  together  probably  a  million  dollars;  born  Mormons, 
but  delivered  early  in  life,  by  the  grace  of  God,  from  the  body 
of  that  death.  They  offered  their  immense  property  and  stock 
at  very  low  figures  to  the  Mormon  Co-operative  Institution, 
but  being  refused,  enlarged  their  store  and  determined  to  fight 
it  out  on  that  line  if  it  took  no  end  of  summers.  For  a  year  or 
so  they  sunk  money,  but  pluck  and  public  spirit  conquered ; 
the  mining  development  of  Utah  more  than  doubled  their 
former  prosperity.  They  are  now  the  merchant  princes  of 
Utah,  investing  heavily  in  mining  enterprises,  men  of  national 
reputation,  and  forward  in  all  works  to  advance  the  liberal 
cause. 

But  theirs  was  the  only  vessel  that  outrode  the  financial 
storm  without  serious  loss;  and  Salt  Lake  City  held  by  July, 
1869,  no  more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  Gentiles.  The 
Mormon  Hierarchy  had  determined  to  corral  the  trade  of  Utah 
by  a  grand  co-operative  scheme,  for  the  benfit  of  the  Church  ; 
and  men  who  can  stand  it  to  live  with  six  or  eight  wives  apiece 
must  be  credited  with  some  resolution. 

And  here  I  may  remark  that  I  never  was  in  a  country  where 
a  little  talent  would  sell  so  high  as  at  that  time  in  Utah.  There 
were  but  few  men  of  real  genius  ,on  either  side  of  the  contro- 
versy; far  more,  of  course,  among  the  Gentiles  than  the  Mormons. 


118 


A   QUEER  "  MOSES." 


BRIGHA3I  YOTJXG. 

The  entire  Church  of  Latter-day  Saints  does  not  contain  ten 
men  who  would  take  rank  as  average  merchants  in  an  Eastern 
city — not  one  man  of  real  commanding  talent.  The  claims  put 
forward  for  Brighara  Young  are  simply  silly,  as  the  plain 
figures  show.  He  has  been  at  the  head  of  the  Church  for 
twenty-five  years;  it  now  numbers  one-half  the  adult  adher- 
ents it  had  when  Joe  Smith  died.  He  led  his  people  a  thou- 
sand miles  into  the  wilderness,  where  every  acre  of  cultivated 
land  has  cost  from  fifty  to  a  hundred  dollars  in  labor,  when 
two  hundred  thousand  square  miles  of  the  richest  land  in  the 
world  were  begging  for  inhabitants.  What  sort  of  a  Moses  do 
you  make  of  such  a  man  ? 

The  apostate  Mormons  were  often  men  of  some  genius,  but  it 
was  all  of  the  hair-splitting  kind.  They  were  fluent  on  the 
"rights  of  man,"  u liberty  of  intellect,"  "spiritual  develop- 
ment," and  the  like;  but  when  concerted  action  was  required, 
they  were  a  set  of  impracticables.  They  were  beyond  doubt 
the  most  skeptical  class  in  the  world.  They  had  been  so  badly 
deceived  once,  that  they  regarded  all  religions  as  delusion  or  fraud 
— generally  both.  I  recall  one  in  particular,  with  whom  I  was 
intimate,  who  was  at  once  the  most  credulous  and  the  most  skepti- 


THEATRICAL.  119 

cal  of  men.  He  talked  long  and  loud  of  liberty,  equality,  and 
fraternity,  but  cursed  the  administration  and  despaired  of  repub- 
lican government;  be  quoted  Tom  Paine  and  Herbert  Spencer 
by  the  hour,  was  poloquent  on  First  Principles  and  Universal 
Law,  and  argued  on  the  Supreme  Good,  the  origin  of  evil,  and 
the  control  of  passion,  till  he  was  black  in  the  face  with  anger. 
He  swore  by  woman,  yet  doubted  her  virtue;  unhesitatingly 
rejected  the  New  Testament  miracles,  and  unhesitatingly  ac- 
cepted everything  published  in  the  Banner  of  Light;  put  his 
trust  in  a  miserable  half-faith  which  he  called  Spiritual  Phi- 
losophy, and  believed  every  book  but  the  Bible.  Such  were 
the  materials  we  had  with  which  to  build  up  a  liberal  party 
in  Utah. 

By  the  middle  of  the  winter  the  Gentiles  had  given  up  the 
hope  of  business,  and  devoted  themselves  to  amusement — prin- 
cipally dancing  and  the  theatre.  Brigham's  Theatre  was  then 
the  institution  of  Salt  Lake;  and  Madam  Methua  Scheller, 
John  C.  McCullough,  George  B.  Waldron  and  lady,  and  other 
"stars"  gave  us  three  months  of  varied  entertainment — princi- 
pally such  pieces  as  the  "  French  Spy,"  "Daughter  of  the  Regi- 
ment," "  Naiad  Queen,"  and  other  sensational  and  spectacular 
dramas.  Two  or  three  times  they  ventured  on  something 
better,  particularly  "  Romeo  and  Juliet/'  which  failed  of  an 
audience,  of  course;  the  parquette,  where  the  Mormons  sat, 
was  nearly  empty. 

Indeed,  the  idea  of  playing  "Romeo  and  Juliet"  before  a 
Mormon  audience  is  a  self-evident  absurdity.  That  play  repre- 
sents the  essential  duality  of  true  love :  one  man  loves  one 
woman,  her,  and  her  only,  and  swears  by  all  creation  that  he 
will  never  love  another,  while  the  audience  have  been  taught 
all  their  lives  that  a  man  can  love  six  women  just  alike.  Single- 
ness of  love  they  hold  to  be  selfishness.  If  they  could  have 
six  Juliets  leaning  half  a  dozen  heads  on  as  many  hands  out  of 
six  windows,  all  in  different  orders  of  architecture,  and  all  the 
Juliets  of  different  styles  of  beauty,  and  one  old  frog  of  an  elder 
making  love  to  all  by  turns,  it  would  probably  take.  It  would 
have  Mormon  spice  in  it. 


120 


FIKST   CORIN2STETHIANS. 


FIRST   SETTLER  AT  CORINNE. 

Spring  approached,  and  by  general  consent  the  more  enter- 
prising Gentiles  began  to  look  for  a  new  place  of  settlement. 
On  the  25th  of  March,  the  City  of  Coriiine  was  laid  out  at  the 
railroad  crossing  on  Bear  River,  some  six  miles  north  of  the 
north  end  of  the  lake ;  we  'moved  the  Reporter  there  early  in 
April,  and  all  went  to  work  with  a  hurrah  to  make  a  "great 
Gentile  city." 

It  was  a  gay  community.  Nineteen  saloons  paid  license  for 
three  months.  Two  dance-houses  amused  the  elegant  leisure 
of  the  evening  hours,  and  the  supply  of  "sports"  was  fully 
equal  to  the  requirements  of  a  railroad  town.  At  one  time  the 
town  contained  eighty  nymphs  du  pave,  popularly  known  in 
Mountain-English  as  " soiled  doves."  Being  the  last  railroad 
town  it  enjoyed  "flush  times"  during  the  closing  weeks  of 
building-  the  Pacific  Railway.  The  junction  of  the  Union  and 


COKINNETHIAN   ORATORS. 


121 


1 '  SUNDAY-NIGHT  AMUSEMENTS. ' ' 

Central  was  then  at  Promontory,  twenty -eight  miles  west,  and 
Corinne  was  the  retiring  place  for  rest  and  recreation  of  all  the 
employes.  Yet  it  was  withal  a  quiet  and  rather  orderly  place. 
Sunday  was  generally  observed :  most  of  the  men  went  hunting 
or  fishing,  and  the  "girls"  had  a  dance,  or  got  drunk. 

Legitimate  business  was  good  for  the  first  two  months  of  the 
city's  existence;  for  the  railroad  was  just  being  completed,  and 
everybody  supposed  that  the  harvest  of  gain  was  about  to  begin. 
We  had  public  meetings  in  abundance.  Two  or  three  times  a 
week  flaming  posters  called  the  citizens  together,  to  consult  on 
"  improvements  for  the  benefit  of  Corinne."  Bonfires  were 


122  UN-REAL  ESTATES. 

lighted,  a  stand  improvised  by  turning  up  a  dry-goods  box,  and 
a  number  of  florid  speeches  delivered;  the  crowd  then  voted 
unanimously  for  various  heroic  resolutions,  and  dispersed  to 
read  their  proceedings  in  the  next  morning's  Reporter. 

Sanguine  real  estate  owners  predicted  a  city  of  ten  thousand 
people  within  two  years.  And  they  believed  it  too.  Let  no 
man  imagine  that  the  citizens  of  new  and  lively  western  towns 
are  only  talking  to  draw  in  outsiders ;  they  convince  themselves 
long  before  they  try  to  convince  others — as  witness  the  fact 
that  very  few  of  them  sell  out  when  the  excitement  is  at  its 
Light.  They  hold  on  for  higher  prices,  and  ninety-nine  out 
of  a  hundred  who  are  rich  when  the  city  is  on  the  rise,  grow 
poor  again  when  it  goes  down.  Corner  lots  in  Corinne  went 
up  to  fabulous  prices.  All  seemed  to  be  satisfied  that  the  loca- 
tion of  the  "Chicago  of  the  Rocky. Mountains"  was  definitely 
settled.  And  they  had  some  ground  for  their  belief.  At  the 
Lead  of  navigation  on  Bear  River,  connecting  with  the  lake, 
and  the  most  favorable  point  for  shipping  freight  from  the 
railroad  into  Montana  and  Idaho,  it  was  reasonable  to  suppose 
that  a  large  town  would  spring  up. 

Chief  among  our  eloquent  real  estate  owners  was  Dr.  O.  D. 
Cass,  better  known  as  "  The  Doc,"  formerly  of  Denver,  who 
had  invested  largely  in  Corinne ;  and  many  delightful  hours 
have  I  spent  in  his  office,  hearing  him  demonstrate  from  the 
map  the  certain  future  greatness  of  Corinne.  Every  morning 
the  Reporter  contained  a  new  and  encouraging  scheme  to  insure 
commercial  importance.  Here  was  to  be  an  enduring  city,  the 
entrepot  of  all  trade  from  the  northern  Territories;  here 
was  to  be  the  "  Queen  City  of  the  Great  Basin."  The  Mormon 
papers  rarely  alluded  to  us,  but  their  speakers  denounced 
Corinne  as  the  home  of  devils,  and  warned  their  young  men  to 
avoid  it  as  the  place  of  destruction  to  manners  and  morals. 
They  ransacked  the  Scriptures  for  precedents :  it  was  too  dry 
for  wells,  too  barren  for  gardens ;  it  was  to  be  as  Tyre,  desolate 
and  a  warning  to  the  Gentile ;  it  was  as  wicked  Sodom  to 
perish  under  Heaven's  wrath ;  it  was  Moab,  the  Lord's  wash- 
pot  ;  it  was  Edom,  over  which  he  would  cast  out  his  shoe. 


THE   BUBBLE   BURSTS. 


123 


FOR  THE  BENEFIT  OF  COHEN^E. 

Vain  denunciations,  and  equally  vain  hopes.  The  railroad 
was  completed,  and  all  our  floating  population  drifted  to  fresh 
fields;  the  "dull  times "  of  1869  came  on,  and  Corinne  sub- 
sided to  a  moral  and  quiet  burg  of  perhaps  four  hundred  in- 
habitants. Better  times  came  in  1870,  and  in  the  last  two 
years,  and  the  "  Queen  City  "  is  now  a  thriving  country  village 
of  perhaps  twelve  hundred  people.  My  corner  lots,  which  cost 
me  $500,  are  for  sale  at  a  discount,  and  other  real  estate  owners 
are  in  the  like  case.  I  met  "The  Doc"  a  few  weeks  since  on 
my  last  visit  there.  He  was  still  social  and  lively;  but  there 
was  no  speculation  in  his  eyes. 


124  CITY  LOTS. 

The  history  of  Corinne  is  the  history  of  something  near  a 
thousand  towns  in  the  "  glorious  free  and  boundless  West." 
In  a  new  country,  when  the  first  towns  are  laid  out,  every  body 
speculates,  one  makes  money  and  nineteen  come  to  grief. 

Well  do  I  remember  when,  now  twenty  years  ago,  the  people 
of  our  place  in  Indiana  first  felt  the  excitement  about  Minnesota 
as  a  place  of  settlement.  Oregon  and  California  had  been  "  all 
the  rage "  for  four  years,  and  the  former  State  was  generally 
regarded  as  a  cold,  barren  region,  with  a  few  Indian  trading 
posts ;  and,  perhaps,  some  good  land,  but  quite  too  far  North 
for  Hoosiers  and  Buckeyes.  But  about  that  time  the  tide  began 
to  set  that  way.  Two  young  men  from  our  town  went  out  to 
Winona,  remained  a  few  months,  and  returned  with  fabulous 
accounts  of  the  fertile  soil,  fine  timber,  and  healthful  air ;  "  and 
as  to  cold,"  they  added,  "the  ground  is  so  dry  and  the  winters 
so  uniform,  we  didn't  suffer  half  as  much  as  in  Indiana." 
Then  every  body  wanted  to  go  West — to  Minnesota.  And 
one  old  gentleman,  noted  for  his  prudence,  thus  pronounced  : 
"  Now  you  see,  I  ain't  ?er  goin'  to  be  led  away  by  any  excitement 
about  any  one  place.  I've  got  money  to  invest,  and  I'll  put  in 
one  whole  season  ridin'  about,  and  a  man  can  tell  by  the  lay 
of  the  country  where  the  big  town's  a  goin'  to  be  and  there  I'll 
stick  my  stake."  And  he  went  and  rode  all  one  summer  about 
the  State,  and  was  convinced  by  unmistakable  signs  that  there 
was  to  be  one  big  city  in  the  Northwest,  and  that  was  to  be  at 
the  southern  end  of  Lake  St.  Croix.  All  this  he  demonstrated 
on  his  return  home  by  unanswerable  arguments — on  the  map — 
and  went  out  again  with  some  ten  thousand  dollars  and  invested 
it  all  at  Prescott — at  the  south  end  of  that  Lake ;  and  to  the 
best  of  my  knowledge  and  belief  his  lots  there  are  worth  as 
much  as  they  were  in  1854,  if  not  more.  At  any  rate  I  have 
not  heard  a  word  about  Prescott — then  the  "great  coming 
town  " — for  ten  years  past.  For  aught  I  see  in  the  papers  it, 
like  Paddy's  little  brother,  "  died  a  bornin'."  In  like  manner 
I  have  heard  people  demonstrate  that  Omaha  and  Kansas  City 
could  not  be  the  big  places ;  the  true  location  was  a  few  miles 
up  or  a  few  miles  down  the  river ;  the  site  was  unfortunate, 


VERY  UNCERTAIN.  125 

and  the  other  place,  whatever  it  was,  must  finally  get  ahead. 
But  somehow  these  "  other  places  "  seldom  get  ahead — if  they 
lose  the  first  two  years'  start. 

Moral:  you  can't  most  always  tell  out  West  where  the  "big 
place  "  is  going  to  be,  simply  from  the  "  run  of  the  river"  or  "  lay 
of  the  country."  Nature  only  determines  the  general  neighbor- 
hood— within,  perhaps,  fifty  or  a  hundred  miles — of  cities  in  the 
new  "West ;  between  any  two  sites  in  the  same  neighborhood,  the 
pluck  and  energy  of  the  first  settlers  always  determine  the 
matter.  Moral  again  :  If  you  are  in  the  biggest  place,  the  one 
that  has  the  start,  don't  be  seduced  away  to  a  new  place  because 
it  appears  to  have  a  little  better  site,  but  stay  where  you  are, 
even  if  "  times  are  dull  "  just  now,  and  ten  to  one  the  place  that 
has  the  start  will  keep  it. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

THE   UNION   PACIFIC  COMPLETED. 

The  last  rail  and  spike — A  visit  home — An  unofficial  tour — Whitney,  Benton, 
Burton,  Fremont,  Stansbury,  Saxton,  and  Gunnison — Difficulties  of  construc- 
ture — Where  is  the  real  starting  point? — Missouri  River  Bridge — Out  the 
Platte — Fremont — Columbus — On  the  plains  again — Julesburg — Smoothness 
of  the  route — Delightful  traveling — Cheyenne — A  Western  Jeffreys ! — Laramie 
again — A  tragedy — A  miracle,  perhaps ! — "  Big  Ed's  "  guardian  angel — Pyra- 
mid rocks  —  Beauties  of  Laramie  Plains — Desert  west  of  them — Wasatch — Echo 
and  Weber — Promontory — Moral  gamblers— Reflections. 

) 

|N  the  10th  of  May,  1869,  I  attended  the  ceremonies  con- 
nected with  laying  the  last  rail,  and  driving  the  last 
spike,  on  the  Pacific  Railway,  which  events  took  place 
on  the  Promontory  north  of  Great  Salt  Lake.  A  few 
days  after  I  came  East  on  the  completed  road,  visiting 
my  home  after  an  absence  of  thirteen  months;  and  then,  in 
company  with  other  correspondents,  made  an  unofficial  inspec- 
tion of  the  entire  line  for  our  several  journals,  stopping  at  all 
the  towns  along  the  way.  Reams  of  paper  and  gallons  of  ink 
have  since  been  exhausted  on  the  great  work,  and  still  the  read- 
ing public  asks  for  more.  And  there  is  always  more  to  be  said  ; 
for  the  ever-varying  circumstances  of  Western  life,  the  shifting 
phases  which  characterize  existence  beyond  the  Mississippi,  re- 
quire a  new  historian  every  month. 

History  has  not  decided  to  whom  belongs  the  honor  of  ad- 
vancing the  idea  of  a  Pacific  Railroad.  Probably  to  no  one 
man.  The  scheme  was  such  as  to  suggest  itself  to  many  of  our 
earlier  statesmen.  When  Whitney  proposed  to  build  it  for  a 
grant  of  land  thirty  miles  in  width  along  its  track,  it  was  looked 
upon  as  the  fancy  of  a  monomaniac.  I  think  myself  he  would 
have  come  out  some  thirty  millions  in  debt,  unless  he  could 
126 


PRELIMINARY   SURVEYS.  127 

have  persuaded  Eastern  capitalists  to  purchase  the  grant  between 
the  Black  Hills  and  the  Sierras  without  visiting  it.  When  the 
great  Benton  began  to  agitate  the  matter,  it  was  regarded  as 
premature — the  harmless  fancy  of  an  old  politician.  And  as 
late  as  1856,  when  the  National  Republican  Platform  contained 
a  clause  in  favor  of  the  work,  it  was  regarded  as  a  piece  of 
cheap  electioneering  "  buncombe " — rather  shallow  at  that. 
Again,  in  1860,  the  English  traveler  and  scientist,  Capt.  R.  F. 
Burton,  in  his  "  City  of  the  Saints,"  says  of  the  road :  "  The 
estimated  expense  is  one  hundred  millions ;  it  would  cost  at  least 
twice  that  sum ;  it  is  expected  to  build  it  in  ten  years,  but  it 
will  consume  at  least  thirty."  In  nine  years  from  that  utterance 
the  road  was  completed. 

Fremont,  Stansbury,  Saxton,  Gunnison,  and  other  explorers, 
seem  to  have  been  slow  in  convincing  themselves  that  the  road 
could  be  built  at  all.  Stansbury,  however,  has  the  honor  of 
being  the  first  to  demonstrate  satisfactorily  that  there  was  any 
route  more  direct  than  the  old  emigrant  trail  by  the  Sweet  water 
River  and  South  Pass.  On  his  return,  in  1850,  from  his  sur- 
vey of  the  Great  Salt  Lake,  he  followed  up  the  mountain  pass 
directly  eastward  from  Laramie  Plains,  crossed  the  Black  Hills 
about  on  the  present  railroad  line,  and  descended  eastward  to  a 
point  very  near  where  the  city  of  Cheyenne  now  stands,  follow- 
ing down  Lodgepole  Creek  to  its  junction  with  the  Platte. 

Southern  influence  was  all-powerful  in  Congress  in  those 
days,  and  was  against  the  road.  The  national  charter  was  first 
granted  in  July,  1862;  the  preliminary  organization  was  com- 
pleted in  October,  1863, — authorized  capital,  a  hundred  million 
dollars ;  and  the  first  contract  for  construction  was  made  in 
August,  1864.  The  first  forty  miles  of  the  road  were  not  com- 
pleted till  January,  1866.  Still  the  work  languished  :  capita- 
lists doubted  it;  the  government  appeared  indifferent;  the  war 
absorbed  every  energy  of  the  people,  and  for  a  time  the  very 
idea  seemed  forgotten.  But  all  that  time  a  few  bold  and  deter- 
mined men  were  working  incessantly  to  insure  its  completion. 
By  the  war  the  necessity  for  a  closer  union  with  the  Pacific 
States  became  more  apparent,  and  the  mighty  energies  evolved 


128  AT  THE   MISSOURI. 

by  the  civil  strife,  found  their  proper  object  in  iron  girding  the 
continent. 

These  energies  were  needed  in  view  of  the  difficulties. 
Omaha,  the  initial  point,  was  not  then  connected  with  the  East 
by  rail.  A  gap  of  a  hundred  miles  or  more  intervened,  over 
which  everything  had  to  be  transported  by  teams.  The  mag- 
nificent engine  of  seventy-horse-power,  which  for  a  long  time 
ran  the  company's  works  at  Omaha,  was  hauled  by  oxen  from 
Des  Moines,  Iowa.  Under  the  stimulus  caused  by  the  Union 
Pacific,  three  through  lines  have  already  been  completed  from 
Chicago  to  Omaha.  Was  the  road  then  built  too  soon  ?  By 
no  means.  But  the  cost  was  undoubtedly  much  greater  than  it 
would  have  been  at  a  later  day. 

It  is  strenuously  claimed  by  Iowa  men  that  Omaha  is  not  the 
real  starting  point ;  for  the  plat  designated  by  charter — the 
common  junction  of  half  a  dozen  roads — is  east  of  the  Mis- 
souri, some  four  miles  southwest  of  Council  Bluffs.  Hence  a 
wordy  war  between  the  two  cities,  which  threatened  all  sorts  of 
terrible  things,  and  was  once  of  sufficient  importance  to  get  into 
Congress.  Hence,  also,  the  great  Union  Pacific  Bridge  over  the 
Missouri,  which  completed  the  continuous  line  of  rail  from 
Atlantic  to  Pacific. 

This  structure,  entirely  of  iron,  has  eleven  spans  of  two 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  each ;  is  fifty  feet  above  high  water 
mark,  and  seventy  above  low.  The  piers  are  formed  of  iron 
cylinders,  filled  in  with  boulders  and  concrete;  the  cylinders 
being  merely  rings,  each  ten  feet  high  and  nine  and  a  half  in 
diameter.  In  forming  the  pier  one  ring  was  placed  upon  the 
sand,  tightly  capped,  and  the  air  within  pumped  out,  when  the 
pressure  would  drive  it  down  to  the  level ;  after  which  it  was 
uncapped  and  another  bolted  tightly  upon  it,  and  the  process 
repeated.  The  eastern  pier,  first  completed,  went  down  seventy- 
five  feet  below  the  surface  before  it  rested  on  solid  sandstone. 

On  the  10th  of  July  we  left  Omaha  for  a  review  of  the  "first 
division" — extending  in  our  arrangement,  to  Fremont,  the  first 
place  of  note,  forty  miles  out.  A  year  before  I  had  entered  it 
from  the  north,  afoot,  weary  and  disconsolate.  It  looked  much 


130  COLUMBUS,    NEBRASKA. 

better  when  entered  from  the  cars,  in  bodily  comfort  and  good 
company.  Fremont  has  "great  expectations."  It  is  the  center 
of  a  plain  of  great  beauty  and  richness,  is  the  point  of  junction 
for  the  Sioux  City  branch  of  the  Union  Pacific,  and  has  a 
population  of  three  thousand.  We  are  here  not  quite  "  out  of 
civilization,"  but  merely  on  its  borders ;  the  extremes  of  society 
are  closely  mingled,  and  both  nature  and  humanity  seem  full  of 
the  spirit  of  border-land  poetry. 

From  Fremont  forty-five  miles  of  gentle  up-grade — aver- 
aging throughout  the  Platte  Valley  seven  feet  to  the  mile — 
bring  us  to  the  ambitious  "  city  "  of  Columbus.  George  F.  Train 
settled  in  his  own  mind  that  this  was  the  geographical  center  of 
the  United  States,  though  most  people  place  that  point  some- 
where near  Fort  Riley,  Kansas;  consequently  he  pronounced  it 
"  the  future  Capital,"  and  proceeded  to  buy  and  lay  out  a  town 
plat.  A  great  railroad  was  projected  from  Sioux  City  to  this 
point,  with  branch  straight  north  across  the  Niobrara  country 
to  Yankton,  Dakota,  and  a  continuation  southward  through 
the  valley  of  the  Blue  to  connect  with  some  of  the  numerous 
projected  roads  in  Kansas.  "  The  wind-work  is  all  done,  and 
grading  will  commence  about  September  first" — the  sanguine 
citizens  confidently  affirmed.  They  further  assured  me,  seeing 
that  I  was  a  journalist,  and  only  wanted  the  exact  truth  to  lay 
before  my  "numerous  and  intelligent  readers,"  that  Columbus 
was  sure  to  be  quite  a  metropolis,  the  great  central  city  of  this 
valley,  certainly  the  capital  of  the  State,  and  possibly  of  the 
Nation.  And,  like  the  hopeful  builders  of  my  own  Corinne,  they 
believed  every  word  of  it;  town  lots  were  at  handsome 
figures  and  advancing,  and  there  was  speculation  in  the  eyes 
of  real  estate  owners.  We  remained  a  day,  but  did  not  "invest 
in  lots." 

Columbus  is  one  of  the  "stakes"  of  the  "  Joseph ite  Mor- 
mons"— so-called  by  the  profane,  but  styling  themselves  the 
"Reorganized  Church  of  Jesus  Christ  of  Latter-day  Saints  "- 
and  here  I  met  Alexander  and  David  Hyrum  Smith,  sons  of 
the  late  Prophet  Joseph,  who  were  gathering  the  "sinews  of 
war"  for  a  raid  into  Utah,  to  wrest  the  kingdom  from  the 


BUFFALO    AND    EMIGRANT.  131 

usurper  Brigham.  They  traveled  with  us  the  next  stage  to 
Cheyenne,  and  continued  on  to  Utah.  They  went,  they  saw — 
but  they  did  not  conquer.  Their  appearance  excited  little 
enthusiasm  among  the  saints.  Fanaticism,  like  revolution, 
never  goes  backward.  Religious  bubbles,  like  all  others, 
must  rise  till  they  burst.  Very  few  in  Utah  were  prepared 
to  leave  the  developed  stage  of  Mormonism  to  go  back  to  the 
original. 

Beyond  Columbus  there  were  then  no  "  cities"  for  four  hun- 
dred miles.  Of  all  which  sprang  up  on  the  road,  only  two  or 
three  survive  in  anything  like  their  first  greatness.  A  specula- 
tive and  uncertain  character  attached  to  all  of  them;  lots  in  the 
"  wickedest  city,"  Julesburg,  which  once  sold  readily  for  a 
thousand  dollars,  are  now  the  habitations  of  the  owls  and 
prairie  dogs.  But  there  is  one  lot  in  the  deserted  site  of  Jules- 
burg  whose  tenants  will  not  remove  to  the  new  railroad  town. 
I  mean  the  cemetery,  where  lie  the  bodies  of  at  least  a  hundred 
victims  of  midnight  rows,  violence  and  vigilantes.  The  town 
lasted  only  five  months,  but  was  quite  successful  in  establishing 
a  graveyard, 

In  that  neighborhood,  or  a  little  farther  east,  in  the  years 
before  the  railroad,  two  great  lines  of  migration  and  emigration 
annually  intersected  :  the  first  of  the  millions  of  buffaloes  which 
had  wintered  in  northwestern  Texas  and  were  thus  far  on  their 
spring  travel ;  the  second  of  the  overland  travelers  who  had 
journeyed  from  the  Missouri,  reaching  this  point  about  the 
latter  part  of  May.  From  here  to  the  foot  of  the  mountains 
was  then  a  great  buffalo  range ;  and  it  is  stated  that  emigrants 
were  hindred  from  crossing  the  Platte  for  several  days  at  a 
time  by  the  herds  which  were  crowding  to  pass  it.  Now  they 
are  rarely  seen  here.  The  Indians  hunt  them  to  the  south  of 
Republican  Fork,  and  the  Kansas,  not  the  Union,  Pacific  is 
the  route  on  which  to  see  buffaloes. 

One  can  speak  in  the  highest  terms  of  the  smoothness  and 
ease  of  travel  on  the  Union  Pacific — particularly  on  that  por- 
tion in  the  Platte  Valley.  Hour  after  hour  the  traveler  is 
carried  rapidly  along  without  jar  or  discomfort,  generally  free 


132  SEVERE   SENTENCE. 

from  dust,  with  sensations  as  agreeable  as  if  upon  rails  of  glass. 
On  a  table  in  the  sleeping  car  a  glass  of  water,  filled  within 
half  an  inch  of  the  brim,  can  be  carried  hundreds  of  miles 
without  spilling  a  drop ;  and  in  these  moving  palaces  all  the 
parlor  entertainments  of  books,  cards,  chess,  and  even  sewing 
and  writing  to  some  extent,  can  be  enjoyed  without  dis- 
comfort. 

Cheyenne  stands  on  a  beautiful  plain,  half  encircled  by  the 
bend  of  Crow  Creek ;  to  the  west  the  Black  Hills  break  the 
horizon,  while  Long's  Peak,  ninety  miles  to  the  south,  and  tho 
snowy  summits  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  show  with  dazzling 
brilliancy  through  the  rarified  air.  The  city  is  no  longer  the 
paradise  of  "  roughs,"  but  a  quiet  and  orderly  community. 
The  political  and  social  revolutions  of  its  first  year  are  worthy 
the  pen  of  a  Macaulay.  It  is  confidently  stated  by  old  settlers 
that  Colonel  Murrin,  while  mayor,  raised  the  value  of  city- 
scrip  eighteen  cents  on  tho  dollar,  by  requiring  every  man  who 
shot  at  another  to  pay  a  fine  of  ten  dollars,  "  whether  he  hit  or 
missed."  But  this  unheard-of  severity  built  up  a  powerful 
opposition,  and  Murrin  lost  his  office.  This  genial  official  often 
had  the  "girls"  before  him  for  such  trifling  charges  as  "  drunk 
and  disorderly,"  when  the  following  colloquy  usually  ensued  : 
"Your  fine  is  ten  dollars  and  twenty-five  cents." 
"Yes,  y'r  honor,  but  what's  the  twenty-five  cents  for?" 
"To  buy  your  honorable  Judge  a  drink  in  the  morninV 
In  those  days  Cheyenne  was  in  the  Territory  of  Dakota, 
Wyoming  not  being  organized;  but  as  it  was  eight  hundred 
miles  by  the  shortest  route  to  Yankton,  the  new  city  did  not 
wait  for  a  regular  charter,  but  had  a  complete  government  with 
no  basis  but  the  will  of  the  people.  A  year  or  so  afterwards, 
those  who  had  fined  and  imprisoned  culprits,  or  sent  them  to 
work  with  ball  and  chain,  became  apprehensive  of  legal  ven- 
geance, and  applied  to  the  Dakota  Legislature,  which  legalized 
the  original  charter,  nunc  pro  tune. 

We  rolled  westward  from  Cheyenne  on  the  17th  of  July,  but 
the  morning  was  cold  ;  and  the  train  crept  slowly  up  the  moun- 
tain-side enveloped  in  a  chilly  gray  mist,  which  gave  an  air  of 


134  BLACK    HILLS. 

added  desolation  to  the  gloomy  defiles  of  the  Black  Hills.  The 
ascent  upon  the  eastern  side  is  everywhere  so  gradual  as  to  be 
scarcely  perceptible ;  and  even  at  Sherman,  highest  point  on  the 
road — 8342  feet  above  sea-level — the  spectator  is  less  conscious 
of  being  upon  a  mountain  than  at  any  other  point,  the  high 
bare  rocks,  with  a  few  green  plats,  spreading  away  to  the  north 
and  south,  giving  rather  the  appearance  of  a  high  meadow  than 
a  mountain  top. 

Passing  the  wild  scenery  of  Granite  Canon  just  as  the  fogs 
of  the  morning  were  giving  way  to  the  clear  sunshine  and  blue 
sky  of  the  mountains,  we  emerged  upon  the  first  rocky  "  bench," 
with  a  free  outlook  to  the  west,  then  passed  Dale  Creek  bridge, 
at  a  dizzy  hight  over  a  narrow  gorge,  which  seems  to  split  the 
highest  ridge  of  the  mountains  from  north  to  south  ;  but  a  little 
south  of  the  road  it  turns  sharply  to  the  eastward,  and  the 
creek  caiions  out  upon  the  eastern  bench,  and  running  across 
the  high  plains,  empties  into  the  South  Platte.  Thence,  west- 
ward and  northward,  we  move  down  the  mountain,  first  through 
ragged  gaps  and  rock  cuts,  then  along  embankments  and  rock 
flats,  and  then  out  upon  the  head  of  Little  Laramie,  where  the 
road  gets  much  smoother,  but  still  bearing  swiftly  downward, 
till  we  run  out  upon  the  grassy  plats  and  wonderful  scenery  of 
Laramie  Plains,  and  stop  for  a  few  days  at  the  "  city "  of 
Laramie. 

Laid  out  in  May,  1868,  this  place  had  an  early  history  much 
like  that  of  Cheyenne.  But  the  better  citizens,  impatient  of 
the  law's  delay,  took  the  matter  into  their  own  hands,  and  an 
explosion  of  popular  wrath  ended  in  a  "judicious  hanging." 
On  a  beautiful  midnight  of  the  next  October,  three  notorious 
villains  were  seized  by  the  Vigilantes,  given  a  short  trial,  and 
at  daylight  of  a  clear  Sabbath  morning,  "Con"  Wagner,  Asa 
Moore,  and  "  Big  Ed  "  Bernard,  were  hanging  stiff  and  cold  to 
the  projecting  timbers  of  an  old  log-house.  And  then  an  inci- 
dent occurred  which  long  furnished  matter  for  surprise  to  the 
curious,  and  conjecture  to  the  superstitious.  A  neighboring 
photographer,  knowing  that  the  bodies  would  be  removed  as 
soon  as  daylight  discovered  them,  arranged  his  instruments  and 


THE    ANGEL    IN    THE    CLOUD. 


1  :>>:> 


CHIEF  JUSTICE   OF   WYOMING. 

waited  patiently  for  the  first  light,  to  secure  a  sensational  view 
of  the  executed.  The  light  clouds  were  just  scattering  before 
the  coming  sun  when  he  bared  the  sensitive  plate,  and  turned 
it  towards  the  bodies — in  a  little  too  great  haste  as  it  proved 
— and  there  appeared  fixed  upon  the  negative,  formed  by  the 
parting  of  two  clouds,  an  exact  representation  of  a  weeping 
angel  over  "Big  Ed's"  shoulder.  Her  long  hair  fell  on  each 
side  of  the  swinging  murderer  ;  her  down-cast  eyes  appeared  to 
rest  in  deep  sadness  on  the  rope  encircling  his  neck,  while  two 
tear-drops  trembled  on  her  cloudy  cheeks.  At  first  view  of 
the  negative,  preserved  in  memory  of  this  curious  accident,  the 


136 

angel  appears  as  a  real  figure  in  the  scene;  and  it  is  not 
till  one  traces  the  joining  of  the  clouds  that  he  perceives  the 
illusion. 

Another  of  the  same  gang,  "Long  Steve"  Young,  had  been 
warned  the  previous  day  to  leave  town;  but  instead  of  doing  so, 
he  armed  himself  and  swore  to  revenge  the  death  of  his  com- 
rades. He  was  seized  at  once,  given  a  fair  trial,  and  at  nine 
o'clock  of  that  Sabbath  morning  was  hanged  to  the  telegraph 
pole  at  the  end  of  the  depot.  At  his  first  suspension  the  rope 
broke,  and  he  fell  to  the  ground,  when  an  old  mountaineer  who 
had  been  garroted  and  robbed  a  few  nights  before,  jumped  upon 
him  and  stamped  him  furiously  in  the  face.  This  extra  horror 
was  ended  at  once  by  the  Vigilantes,  and  the  prisoner  hanged 
till  dead.  Young  had  been  hanged  twice  before  in  Colorado, 
and  cut  down  at  the  point  of  death.  The  Vigilantes  wore  no 
mask,  and  attempted  no  concealment;  the  Deputy  United  States 
Marshal  was  the  only  official  in  the  vicinity,  and  he  had  fled 
the  night  before,  being  rather  more  than  suspected  of  complicity 
with  the  robbers. 

Some  twenty  miles  southwest  of  Laramie  is  a  region  known 
as  Pvramid  Rocks,  well  worthy  a  few  days7  visit.  At  a  distance 
the  rocks  look  like  the  ruins  of  an  ancient  city,  but  on  near 
approach  are  found  to  consist  of  clusters  and  columns  of  red 
and  white  sandstone,  from  ten  to  twenty  feet  in  diameter,  and 
from  fifty  to  eighty  feet  in  hight,  worn  by  the  ceaseless  winds  or 
by  the  waters  of  a  geologic  age  till  they  are  round  and  smooth 
as  if  polished  with  the  lapidary's  greatest  skill.  The  summits 
of  many  of  the  columns  are  crowned  with  a  species  of  parachute, 
often  extending  fifteen  feet  over  the  edge.  Where  the  columns 
gather  in  clusters,  these  projecting  summits  unite,  forming  a 
solid  roof  and  appearing  to  one  below  like  vast  arches  support- 
ing a  cathedral  dome.  Towards  the  center  of  the  largest  group 
the  light  fades  away,  owls  and  bats  peer  down  from  numerous 
crevices  upon  the  intruder,  while  still  farther  into  the'recesses 
can  be  heard  the  suppressed  growl  of  foxes,  badgers  and  coyotes, 
and  the  floor  is  strewn  with  the  bones  of  their  prey.  The  great 
bald  eagle  has  appropriated  many  places  upon  the  summit  for 


LA  RAMIE    PLAINS. 


137 


PYRAMID  ROCKS. 

his  eyrie,  and  the  prairie  wolf  finds  a  retreat  in  the  deepest  cav- 
erns. At  a  distance  one  column  has  the  exact  appearance  of  an 
old  baronial  castle,  and  another  that  of  a  Roman  arch.  The 
loose  sand,  driven  about  by  the  wind  for  thousands  of  years,  has 
worn  away  the  softer  portions,  and  carved  a  thousand  gro- 
tesque faces  upon  the  rock.  Here  is  written  as  upon  an  open 
book,  the  pre-Adarnite  history  of  these  rocks  and  plains,  the 
erosion  and  drift,  and  then  the  wear  of  wind  and  sand,  which 
have  made  these  level  plains  among  the  mountains,  leaving  only 
these  solid  monuments  to  show  the  lapse  of  years. 

These  singular  plains  of  the  Big  and  Little  Lamarie  are  really 
parks,  quite  similar  in  formation  to  those  of  Colorado,  but  of 
less  elevation,  being  but  G500  feet  above  sea-level,  and  entirely 
surrounded  by  mountains,  except  the  passes  north  and  north- 


138  A    WEARY    LAND. 

west  through  which  flow  Laramie  and  Medicine  Bow  Rivers. 
Here  the  vegetation  of  the  East  and  West  mingles,  and  the 
larger  part  of  these  plains  is  covered  by  a  mixture  of  buffalo 
and  bunch  grass,  very  nutritious,  and  already  the  grazing  land 
of  numerous  stock-growers.  We  find  near  Medicine  Bow  a 
number  of  lakes  with  no  outlet,  strongly  impregnated  with 
alkali,  and  with  borders  quite  barren  except  for  an  occa- 
sional stunted  growth  of  sage-brush,  greasewood,  and  desert 
cactus. 

Thence  for  nearly  four  hundred  miles  westward,  all  nature  is 
a  weariness  to  the  eye  and  a  burden  to  the  flesh — white  deserts 
of  alkali,  bare  deserts  of  gravel  and  sand,  gray  rock,  red  buttes, 
yellow  hills,  dry  gullies,  and  hot  bare  plains.  Two  or  three 
green  valleys  appear,  in  which  some  enthusiastic  settlers  have 
half-persuaded  themselves  that  they  can  "  make  a  country/' 
One  such  resident  met  the  Honorable  (and  bluff)  Ben.  Wade, 
while  the  latter  was  on  his  tour  inspecting  the  Union  Pacific, 
and  with  a  deprecating  air,  remarked, 

"  This  isn't  such  a  bad  country — all  it  lacks  is  water  and 
good  society.7' 

"  Yes,"  retorted  the  Senator,  with  equal  truth  and  point  in 
application,  "  that's  all  that  Hell  lacks."  The  comparison  nearly 
does  justice  to  the  country. 

From  this  region  the  road  rises  by  the  eastern  slope  of  the 
Wasatch  Mountains  to  Wasatch  Station,  the  summit  of  the  "Rim 
of  the  Great  Basin,"  seven  thousand  feet  above  sea-level,  a 
place  of  wild,  rare  beauty,  and  during  a  large  part  of  winter, 
entirely  above  the  clouds.  I  visited  the  place  in  January,  1869, 
and  during  my  stay  of  a  week  the  thermometer  never  rose  to 
zero,  ranging  from  three  to  twenty  degrees  below,  though  there 
was  not  a  cloud  in  the  sky  except  the  light  masses  near  the 
horizon,  and  the  sun  shone  with  a  peculiar  dazzling  brilliancy. 
The  air,  too,  was  quite  still,  and  sitting  in  a  well-warmed  frame 
tent,  and  looking  through  the  windows  on  the  yellow  waxen 
sunlight,  it  seemed  impossible  that  winter  held  such  savage 
reign  without,  but  a  step  into  the  open  air  soon  showed  the 
reality.  The  terminus  was  to  remain  there  the  rest  of  the  win- 


PROMONTORY. 


139 


ter,  four  thousand  men. were  at  work  on  the  grade  and  rock-cut 
within  a  few  miles,  who  must  do  their  trading  there,  and  as  by 
magic  a  city  of  fifteen  hundred  people  sprung  up  in  two  weeks 
in  the  dead  of  winter.  During  my  stay,  the  sound  of  hammer 
and  saw  was  heard  day  and  night,  regardless  of  the  cold,  and 
restaurants  were  built  and  fitted  up  in  such  haste  that  guests 
were  eating  at  the  tables,  while  the  carpenters  were  finishing  the 
weather-boarding — that  is,  putting  on  the  second  lot  to  "cover 
joinings."  I  ate  breakfast  at  the  "  California"  when  the  cracks 
were  half  an  inch  wide  between  the  "  first  siding,"  and  the  ther- 
mometer in  the  room  stood  at  five  below  zero !  A  drop  of  the 
hottest  coffee  spilled  upon  the  cloth  froze  in  a  minute,  while  the 
gravy  was  hard  on  the  plate,  and  the  butter  frozen  in  spite  of 
the  fastest  eater.  T-  -  -?  •  -- 

This  was  another  "  wicked  city." 
During  its  lively  existence  of  three 
months  it  established  a  graveyard 
with  forty-three  occupants,  of 
whom  not  one  died  of  disease. 
Two  were  killed  by  an  accident  in 
the  rock-cut;  three  got  drunk, and 
froze  to  death  ;  three  were  hanged, 
and  many  killed  in  rows,  or  mur- 
dered ;  one  "  girl "  stifled  herself 
with  the  fumes  of  charcoal,  and 
another  inhaled  a  sweet  death  in 
subtle  chloroform. 

From  Wasatch  we  pass  through 
a  long  rock-cut  and   tunnel,  and  PULPIT  ROCK,  ECHO  CANON. 
enter  Echo  Canon,  which  leads  us 

into  Weber  Canon  and  that  out  to  Salt  Lake  Valley.  A  hun- 
dred miles  from  Wasatch  bring  us  to  Promontory,  for  six  months 
after  their  completion,  the  junction  of  the  Union  and  Central 
Pacifies,  the  spot  where, 

"  Civilization  shifting  turns  the  other  way," 

And  the  tide  of  progress  rolling   westward,  was  met  by  the 


140  GAMBLING   MORALITY. 

reflux  tide  of  Pacific  "  self-risers,"  assisted  by  the  almond-eyed 
Mongolian. 

Here  we  rested  for  a  day  at  the  last  "  U.  P.  town  " — 4900 
feet  above  sea-level,  though,  theologically  speaking,  if  we  inter- 
pret Scripture  literally,  it  ought  to  have  been  49,000  feet  below 
that  level;  for  it  certainly  was,  for  its  size,  morally  nearest  to 
the  infernal  regions  of  any  town  on  the  road.  In  two  days  I 
had  the  pleasure  (?)  of  seeing  at  least  a  score  of  "  smart  Alecks  " 
relieved  of  their  surplus  cash  by  betting  on  the  "strap  game," 
"patent  lock,"  "ten-die  game,"  "three-card  monte"  and  other 
beautiful  uncertainties,  which  are  so  worked  as  to  appear  "  a 
dead  sure  thing"  to  the  uninitiated. 

What  I  particularly  admire  in  the  "sports"  is  the  fine 
morality  they  display  in  always  having  the  loser  in  the  wrong. 
The  latter  is  certain  he  is  going  to  cheat  the  gambler,  otherwise 
he  would  never  venture.  He  thinks  the  gambler  ignorant  of 
the  fact  that  the  card  is  marked,  or  the  lock  "  hampered,"  or 
the  strap  changed,  as  the  case  may  be,  by  the  "  capper ; "  and 
goes  in  on  what  he  considers  a  "dead  sure  thing."  Hence  I 
maintain  there  should  be  no  legal  action  to  recover  money  lost 
in  gambling.  Between  the  gambler  and  the  loser  the  moralities 
are  equal ;  both  are  rogues  at  heart,  only  the  former  is  the  more 
expert. 

My  journalistic  inspection  of  the  Union  Pacific  was  ended, 
and  on  the  1st  of  August  I  stood  upon  the  "  last  rail,"  which 
was  laid  three  months  before  with  such  imposing  ceremonies, 
and  which  has,  in  literal  prose,  been  whittled  up,  carried  off  and 
replaced  six  times;  so  that  we  have  had  no  less  than  seven  last 
rails,  and  the  end  is  not  yet.  Here  Irish  and  Chinese  laborer 
met  in  their  great  work,  to  place  the  last  jet  in  the  band  which 
weds  the  Orient  and  Occident,  and  solemnize  their  union  by 
the  shores  of  America's  Dead  Sea.  The  scene  on  this  burning 
August  day  is  not  provocative  of  sentiment;  the  theme  is  ex- 
hausted in  song  and  'story,  but  worthy  still  of  extravagant 
eulogy  as  the  .great  triumph  of  peace  in  this  age;  and  as 
I  gaze  upon  the  rocky  hights  around,  I  almost  fancy  I  can 


CREDIT   MOBILIER.  141 

see    the  shade  of   Columbus,   still    pointing   westward,   still 
affirming  : 

"  /  was  right  after  all : 
This  is  the  way  to  India." 

NOTE : — This  chapter  originally  contained  floridly  complimentary  notices  of 
all  the  great  men  engaged  in  building  the  Union  Pacific,  but  about  the  time  it 
went  to  press,  the  Credit  Mobilier  investigation  was  in  progress  in  Washington, 
so  I  thought  it  safest  for  my  reputation  as  an  author  and  Gentile  prophet,  to 
mention  no  names.  Never  praise  a  man,  or  name  your  children  after  him,  till 
he  is  dead. 


CHAPTEK    VIII. 

THE   GREAT   BASIN. 

Hunting  new  fields— Gentile  needs— Mines  or  nothing — Southward— Sevier 
Mines— Gilmer  and  Saulsbury— Rockwell's  Ranche— The  Utah  Basin— Will 
it  be  sacred  ground? — A  family  ticket — Social  robbery — Chicken  Creek — 
"  Them  mules  is  in  the  sagebrush ;  you  go  hunt  'em ! " — Gunnison — Sevier 
Valley — Abandoned  towns — Marysvale — Up  the  Gulch — Drawbacks  to  the 
district— Mr.  Jacob  Hess — My  later  experience — The  habitable  lands  of  Utah 
and  Nevada — Productions — Fruits — True  policy  with  the  State  and  Territory — 
"  Mormon  enterprise  " — A  silver  State — Sunken  deserts — Death  Valley — 
Mournful  reminiscence. 

HE  Union  Pacific  and  overland  excursion  had  become 
too  common.  Every  man  who  could  command  the 
time  and  money  was  eager  to  make  the  trip,  and  all 
who  could  sling  ink  became  correspondents.  At  least 
ten  thousand  columns  had  been  written  about  the 
Mormons,  and  my  local  occupation  was  spoiled.  The  Bedouin 
instinct  stirred  within  me,  and  I  longed  for  fresh  fields  and 
pastures  new. 

The  Gentiles  in  Utah  were  ruined  in  business  if  that  business 
depended  on  the  Mormons,  and  a  few  of  us  turned  eur  eyes 
towards  the  hills  as  a  last  hope.  We  wanted  to  live  in  Utah  ; 
to  do  so  we  must  have  a  Gentile  population,  and  the  only  hope 
for  such  a  population  was  in  developing  paying  mines.  Trade 
with  the  Mormons  no  Gentile  could  count  on,  and  in  agricul- 
ture no  American  could  go  into  the  country  and  compete  with 
the  foreign-born  Mormons,  who  worked  little  five  and  ten-acre 
patches,  and  thought  themselves  in  affluence  if  they  had  a 
hundred  dollars'  worth  of  surplus  produce.  Unless  Utah  had 
rich  mineral  deposits,  we  might  prepare  to  emigrate.  Cotton- 
wood,  Rush  Valley  and  Sevier  were  spoken  of — the  last  far  in 
Southern  Utah.  The  place  was  beyond  the  settlements,  in  the 
142 


PORTER    ROCKWELL. 


143 


OFF   FOR   THE  SEVIER   MINES. 

edge  of  the  Indian  country,  and  the  route  thither  lay  through 
the  dark  regions  of  Polygamia.  But  the  reports  appeared 
favorable,  and  I  determined  to  visit  the  district.  Gilrner  and 
Saulsbury,  successors  to  Wells,  Fargo  &  Co.,  ran  a  tri-weekly 
line  to  Fillmore,  the  old  territorial  capital  ;  and  from  Chicken 
Creek,  north  of  that  city,  a  miners7  express  sometimes  ran  to 
the  Sevier  region. 

The  "  State  Road,"  so-called  in  allusion  to  the  proposed 
"  State  of  Deseret,"  runs  southward  up  the  Jordan  and  through 
the  "'Narrows,"  to  the  Utah  Lake  region.  The  last  station  on 
the  Jordan  is  known  as  Rockwell's  Ranche,  having  long  been 
the  residence  of  the  notorious  "  Port "  Rockwell,  reputed  Danite 
and  undoubted  desperado.  Making  due  allowance  for  western 
exaggeration,  enough  is  certainly  known  of  his  life  to  make  it 
one  of  singular  and  horrible  fascination.  Most  of  the  evidence 
I  have  of  his  life  is  from  Mormons,  but  Porter  himself  only 
owns  to  having  killed  a  dozen  men,  most  of  which  cases  he 
justifies,  and  complains  of  having  been  slandered  by  journalists, 
particularly  Fitzhugh  Ludlow.  That  writer  visited  Porter  at 
his  ranche,  and  afterwards  collected  his  history  from  various 
sources,  and  credits  (or  debits)  him  with  fifty  murders,  as  if  all 
were  proved  facts.  "  Port "  used  to  grit  his  teeth  when  that 


144  UTAH    LAKE   BASIN. 

history  was  mentioned,  and  say  if  he  met  Ludlow  he  would 
make  it  fifty-one!  "Port"  disappeared  from  his  usual  haunts 
while  Judge  McKean's  Federal  Court  was  running  ;  but  when 
that  condition  was  reversed  by  the  Supreme  Court,  he  was  again 
to  be  seen  and  heard  in  "  Zion."  His  custom,  when  drunk,  is 
to  walk  Main  Street  and  give  vent  to  a  regular  series  of  pro- 
longed yells,  which  are  sufficiently  murderous  in  tone  to  make 
a  stranger  believe  almost  anything  about  him.  But  time  would 
fail  me  to  tell  even  that  part  of  Rockwell's  life  which  is  well 
proved;  the  palmy  days  of  such  men  in  Utah  are  passed,  and 
the  "  Danite  Captain's"  occupation  is  gone. 

From  Rockwell's  we  pass  the  "  Point  o'  Mountain  "  and 
"  Narrows,"  and  thence  down  a  long  slope  into  the  fine  valley 
east  of  Utah  Lake — the  Galilee  of  modern  Saints.  Through 
the  flourishing  settlements  of  Lehi,  Battle  Creek,  and  American 
Fork,  we  pass  to  the  city  of  Provo,  second  place  hi  age,  and 
third  in  size,  in  the  Territory.  The  bishop  of  this  place  was 
immortalized  by  Artemus  Ward,  who  tells  of  giving  him  a 
"  family  ticket,"  and  after  congratulating  himself  on  the  size  of 
his  audience,  discovering  that  all  but  a  dozen  of  them  were  the 
bishop's  wives  and  children.  The  point  of  the  joke  is  in  the 
fact  that,  though  the  bishop  has  five  wives,  he  has  never  been  a 
father. 

This  case  illustrates  the  folly  of  polygamy,  in  a  politico- 
economical  sense,  a  little  more  clearly  than  most  others.  .If  the 
four  superfluous  wives  of  this  potentate  had  each  a  husband,  we 
might,  in  the  course  of  nature,  expect  a  score  of  children  where 
now  are  none.  There  being  one  woman  to  one  man  in  the 
world  at  large — not  near  so  many  in  the  Territories — and  all 
men  being  "created  free  and  equal,"  who  gave  one  man  the 
right  to  take  five  men's  shares  of  womanly  sweetness  ?  What 
robbery  so  bad  as  that  which  robs  a  man  of  any  chance  for  a 
wife  or  domestic  happiness?  A  community  of  polygamists  is 
an  absurdity — rather  an  impossibility.  From  the  nature  of  the 
case,  polygamists  must  form  an  exclusive  aristocracy,  like  that 
of  slaveholders. 

Night  had  overtaken   us  before  passing  Springville,  at  the 


SPECULATIONS. 


145 


ON  A  FAMILY  TICKET. 

southern  point  of  Utah  Lake.  The  Provo,  or  Timpanogos, 
Spanish  Fork,  American  Fork,  and  a  dozen  smaller  streams 
feed  this  "  Gem  of  the  Desert/'  which  only  sends  off  one-third 
as  much  water  by  the  Jordan  as  it  receives  from  these  mountain 
affluents.  Some  may  find  its  way  under  ground,  but  more  is 
accounted  for  by  evaporation.  The  lake  contains  forty  square 
miles.  Myself  and  the  driver  were  left  alone,  and  rattling  along 
the  shores  of  this  modern  Sea  of  Galilee,  which,  with  the  Jordan 
and  Salt  Lake,  forms  so  strange  a  copy  of  the  wonders  of  the 
Holy  Land,  while  I  enjoyed  the  calm  beauty  of  the  Utah 
moonlight,  I  could  but  wonder  if  this  region  was  to  become 
historic  in  aftertimes  as  the  starting-point  of  a  new  religion, 
where  future  pilgrims  should  wander  by  the  voiceless 
shore,  and  look  back  over  eighteen  centuries  to  the  cradle 
of  their  faith.  Mormonism  is  now  forty-three  years  old, 
dating  from  the  first  baptism  in  the  brook  of  Sharon,  New 
York,  and  claims  to  have  more  converts  than  did  Christianity 
10 


146  HUNTING    MULES. 

at  the  same  age.  Will  it  in  time  be  purged  of  its  extraneous 
abominations,  polygamy,  incest,  and  blood-atonement,  and  with 
a  purer  theology  develop  into  a  new  form  of  worship,  in  more 
vital  harmony  with  the  age  ?  In  another  generation  will  some 
great  leader,  some  impassioned  orator  and  reasoner,  like  Saint 
Paul,  seize  upon  the  growing  sect,  and  convert  millions  to  its 
progressive  faith  ?  If  so,  then  Sharon,  and  Manchester,  Kirt- 
land,  and  Far  West,  Nauvoo,  Salt  Lake,  and  the  shores  of  the 
American  Jordan  will  become  places  of  holy  renown  and  pious 
pilgrimage,  while  Governors  Boggs  and  Ford,  yes,  and  some 
who  have  employed  their  pens  against  Mormonism,  will  rank 
in  the  future  Church  History  like  Pilate  and  Herod  in  their 
connection  with  the  true  faith. 

So  much  by  way  of  riotous  fancy.  But  the  prospect,  melan- 
choly as  it  might  appear  to  a  good  Mormon,  did  not  prevent  my 
catching  a  few  minutes'  sleep  on  the  smoothest  parts  of  the  road, 
till  daylight  revealed  the  north  point  of  Iron  Mountain,  and 
my  last  station  on  the  stage  road.  This  was  Chicken  Creek, 
whence  the  main  road  bears  westward,  and  a  trail  through  a 
high  uninhabited  valley  leads  to  the  Sevier  road.  It  was  the 
day  for  the  miners'  express,  and  the  station-keeper  informed  me 
"  The  mules  was  in  the  sagebrush ;  driver  would  start  as  soon 
as  he  got  'em." 

All  new  staging  enterprises  in  the  West  begin  with  mules. 
They  take  whipping  and  cursing  more  kindly,  and  in  emer- 
g^ncies  can  live  on  the  white  sage,  which  horses  cannot.  The 
first  coaches  from  the  Missouri  to  Denver  were  drawn  entirely 
by  mules,  the  stations  often  forty  miles  apart;  and  in  some 
instances  a  "  whipper"  was  employed  to  gallop  beside  the  team, 
and  urge  them  forward.  Arrived  at  the  station,  the  mules 
were  turned  out  till  the  next  coach  came  in,  when  the  passen- 
gers were  expected  to  hunt  them,  the  penalty  for  refusal  being 
severe  if  the  driver  had  power  to  enforce  it.  An  old  plains- 
man gave  A.  Ward  the  following  account  of  the  style : 

"A  while  back  there  went  along  here  one  of  them  fellers 
dressed  out  to  kill  in  Boston  cloze,  and  the  first  station  they 
come  to  they  wan  t  no  mules.  Says  the  chap  with  Boston 


AN    UNLUCKY    BOSTONIAN. 


147 


"YOU  GO  HUNT  'EM!" 

cloze,  says  he,  'Where's  them  mules ?'  Says  the  driver,  'Them 
mules  is  in  the  sagebrush  ;  you  go  hunt  'em ;  that's  what  you 
do.'  Says  the  man  o'  Boston  dressin',  'Oh,  no.'  Says  the 
driver,  'Oh,  yes;'  an'  he  took  his  big  stage-whip,  an'  he  licked 
the  man  o'  Boston  dressin'  till  he  went  an'  got  the  mules. 
How  does  that  strike  you  for  a  joke?" 

We  consumed  two  days  in  making  the  hundred  miles  to  the 
mines,  traveling  up  the  Sevier  River,  and  passing  through 
seven  abandoned  towns.  The  Mormons  settled  most  of  this 
valley  many  years  since,  but  were  driven  out  by  Indians  in 
1866;  their  well-built  towns,  surrounded  by  immense  stone 
walls,  still  stood  in  perfect  preservation,  but  uninhabited. 


148  UP   PINE   GULCH. 

My  memory  does  not  recall  a  more  pleasant  journey.  The 
"coves"  opening  back  into  the  mountains  were  rich  in  bunch- 
grass,  which  was  fairly  alive  with  jack  rabbits;  sage  hens, and 
other  small  fowl  were  abundant  on  the  lower  plain,  and  vast 
flocks  of  ducks  were  found  along  the  river.  The  valley  has  a 
general  elevation  of  five  thousand  feet  above  sea-level ;  the  air 
was  cool,  pure  and  invigorating,  and  the  sky  without  a  cloud, 
deep  blue  and  dazzling.  Southern  Utah  has  probably  the  finest 
climate  in  America,  or,  taking  it  the  year  round,  in  the  world. 
The  snow  seldom  falls  more  than  three  inches  deep,  or  lies  on 
more  than  one  night.  Cattle  live  upon  the  range  nearly  all 
winter,  and  yet  the  district  is  free  from  the  scorching  summer 
heats  of  Arizona. 

At  Marysvale,  last  town  on  the  Sevier,  we  found  the  Mor- 
mons returning  to  their  homes,  after  three  years7  absence,  the 
Indians  being  once  more  peaceful.  There  we  turned  west- 
ward, and  toiled  for  six  miles  up  Pine  Gulch,  on  which  the 
mines  are  situated.  Along  the  mountain  stream  by  a  narrow 
"  dug-way,"  with  an  average  up-grade  of  one  foot  in  four,  but 
cut  by  cross  ravines,  and  often  turned  by  immense  rocks,  we 
slowly  made  our  way  towards  the  mountain  top.  One  moment 
we  were  on  the  edge  of  a  narrow  track  where  an  overturn 
would  have  sent  us  a  hundred  feet  into  the  bed  of  the  stream, 
and  the  next  struggling  through  a  narrow  chasm  at  the  bottom  • 
of  the  gulch,  with  walls  of  granite  rising  on  both  sides  of  us, 
and  above  them  the  sloping  sides  of  the  canon  half  a  mile  in 
hight,  with  a  descent  of  more  than  forty-five  degrees,  and  cov- 
ered with  immense  pine  forests  to  the  very  summit.  The  roar- 
ing brook,  now  beside,  now  far  below  us,  and  again  under  our 
wagon-wheels,  seems  to  be  singing  of  the  snowy  hights  that 
form  its  source ;  and  at  every  place  where  a  short  level  or 
natural  dam  of  rock  forms  a  pool,  the  shining  mountain  trout 
are  to  be  seen  in  numbers  through  the  clear  fluid,  though  its 
temperature  is  but  little  above  that  of  ice-wrater,  which  indeed 
it  is  at  its  source  a  few  miles  above. 

A\re  find   Bullion  City  a  straggling  row  of  houses  along  the 
one  street,  which  inclines  some  thirty  degrees  towards  the  bed 


SEVIER.  149 

of  the  stream.  Miners,  particularly  in  new  districts,  are  always 
delighted  to  see  a  journalist;  I  was  warmly  welcomed,  made  free 
of  the  hospitality  of  the  most  pretentious  cabin  in  the  place,  and 
spent  three  days  looking  at  the  mines.  Then,  for  the  first  time, 
I  became  familiar  with  those  mysterious  terms  of  the  mining 
language  :  "  lodes,"  "  croppings,"  "  wall-rock,"  "  foot  and  hang- 
ing wall,"  "dips,"  "spurs,"  "angles,"  "variations," and  "sinu- 
osities." At  the  end  of  three  days  I  concluded  that  I  knew  all 
of  the  science  which  was  of  any  particular  value,  and  proceeded 
to  write  an  authoritative  report  on  the  Sevier  Mines.  Two  years 
afterwards,  at  the  end  of  three  months'  hard  travel,  and  parti- 
cularly hard  study  of  shafts,  tunnel,  etc.,  I  concluded  that  my 
education  for  a  "  mining  expert"  had  just  begun,  and  was  quite 
likely  never  to  be  finished.  I  discovered  that  there  was  about 
the  same  difference  between  any  two  districts  as  between  any 
two  languages  the  student  may  acquire  >  while  certain  general 
principles  pervade  all,  the.  details  are  radically  different.  I 
discovered,  after  Utah  began  to  be  a  mining  country,  that  the 
position  of  mining  reporter  is  one  of  exceeding  liability  to  mis- 
takes, and  taken  all  in  all,  certainly,  the  most  thankless,  unpro- 
fitable   But  I  anticipate.  To  resume. 

Sevier  ought  to  have  been  a  rich  and  well  developed  mining 
region.  Of  that  I  am  still  convinced.  But  it  was  too  far  from 
the  railroad ;  the  characteristic  of  the  region  was  large  bodies 
of  low  grade  ore — too  low  grade  to  reward  transportation  to  a 
great  distance — the  original  locators  were  too  poor  to  get  in 
mills  and  machinery,  and  capitalists  then  had  no  faith  in  Utah 
mines.  My  sanguine  predictions  for  the  region  were  singularly 
falsified  ;  it  was  the  last  district  in  Utah  to  be  developed.  My 
friend  and  host,  Mr.  Jacob  Hess,  held  on  till  the  last,  and  when 
the  district  did  "come  out,"  had  the  satisfaction  of  retiring  with 
a  comfortable  fortune. 

After  a  delightful  sojourn  in  southern  Utah,  I  returned  to  my 
editorial  labors,  a  new  man  physically.  I  have  since  traversed 
the  Great  Basin  in  many  different  ways,  and  to  avoid  vain  repe- 
tition append  a  few  facts  which  the  reader  may  refer  to  or  avoid 
at  leisure. 


150  A   HARD   COUNTRY. 

The  Basin  contains  nearly  one  half  of  Utah,  all  of  Nevada, 
a  large  portion  of  southeastern  California,  and  small  sections  of 
Idaho,  Oregon,  and  Wyoming.  In  this  strange  region  all  na- 
ture seems  to  be  reversed  :  a  river  is  bigger  at  the  head  or 
middle  than  at  the  mouth,  where  it  has  any  mouth  ;  the  lakes 
have  no  outlet  to  the  ocean,  though  receiving  large  streams ; 
timber  grows  only  on  the  mountains,  all  the  interior  plains 
being  bare  ;  about  one-eighth  the  quantity  of  rain  falls  as  in  the 
eastern  States,  and  possibly  one  acre  in  fifty  is  fit  for  cultivation. 
The  rest  consists  of  alkali  beds,  salt  plains,  rocky  flats,  barren 
mountains,  bitter  pools  and  brackish  marshes,  extinct  volcanoes, 
lava  beds,  and  "  dry  rivers,"  with  occasional  patches  of  bunch- 
grass — the  last  rendering  perhaps  one-third  of  the  Basin  of  some 
value  for  grazing. 

Geographically  it  is  divided  into  a  number  of  smaller  basins, 
each  with  a  water  system  of  its  own,  that  draining  into  Great 
Salt  Lake  being  the  largest.  The  only  land  fit  for  cultivation 
is  found  along  the  base  of  the  highest  mountains,  where  melting 
snow  furnishes  some  moisture  throughout  the  dry  season  ;  or  in 
narrow  strips  of  valley  along  the  streams,  where  irrigation  is 
practicable.  Even  of  the  fertile  land,  not  more  than  one- third 
can  be  reclaimed  without  a  most  expensive  system  of  irrigation. 
In  Utah  the  Mormons  have  nearly  exhausted  the  valleys  which 
can  be  cultivated  by  the  common  mode;  agriculture  can  only  be 
extended  further  by  more  scientific  engineering,  carrying  out 
canals  from  the  heads  of  the  larger  streams  upon  higher  plateaus. 
In  this  manner  they  might  reclaim  the  great  plateau  west  of 
Bear  River,  that  west  of  the  Jordan  and  perhaps  three  or  four 
others.  That  territory  has  about  reached  the  limit  of  its  farming 
population,  except  some  such  plan  be  adopted.  Nevada,  with 
81,539  square  miles,  has  about  as  much  good  land  as  three 
average  counties  in  Ohio. 

But  where  the  land  is  fit  and  irrigation  practicable,  the  yield 
is  immense.  Wheat  averaged  last  year  in  Utah,  twenty  bushels 
per  acre;  oats,  barley  and  potatoes  are  produced  in  abundance; 
a  little  Indian  corn  is  raised,  but  the  climate  is  not  favorable; 
peaches  and  apples  may  be  counted  on  every  year,  and  nearly 


DEATH    VALLEY.  151 

all  the  fruits  and  vegetables  of  the  temperate  zone  yield  boun- 
teously. 

Politically  the  Great  Basin  ought  to  be  all  included  in  one 
State.  It  would  then  have  about  population  enough  for  one 
Representative  in  Congress,  which  neither  of  its  divisions  will 
have  for  the  next  twenty  years,  unless  the  number  of  members 
is  increased  every  decade ;  for  the  country  at  large  is  increasing 
in  population  as  fast,  if  not  faster,  than  either  Nevada  or  Utah. 
The  proposed  State  would  be  a  mining  commonwealth,  wrhose 
laws  would  apply  equally.  Mormonism  out  of  the  way,  its 
people  would  be  homogeneous,  with  interests  substantially  the 
same  in  every  section,  and  with  the  railroads  already  done  and 
in  a  fair  way  for  completion  communication  would  be  easy,  as 
the  population  is  located  only  around  the  edges,  leaving  the  cen- 
ter uninhabited. 

The  Mormons  are  much  praised  for  what  they  have  done  in 
Utah ;  but  it  seems  to  me  a  people  who  were  so  absurd  as  to 
settle  in  such  a  country,  when  empires  of  good  land  were  beg- 
ging for  inhabitants,  have  too  little  judgment  to  be  relied  on  for 
anything.  We  can  scarcely  respect  the  general  intellect  of  a 
man  who  squats  in  a  mud-hole,  though  we  may  wonder  at  his 
energy  in  getting  out. 

As  we  go  towards  the  south  west  all  cultivable  land  disappears. 
The  "  Great  Desert"  of  Nevada  and  Utah  covers  some  30,000 
square  miles,  and  is  succeeded  by  the  sunken  deserts  which  ex- 
tend down  to  the  Colorado.  Most  notable  among  these  is 
Death  Valley,  so  called  from  the  loss  of  an  emigrant  train,  of 
which  the  following  account  is  given  : 

"  It  is  said  to  be  lower  than  the  level  of  the  sea,  and  wholly 
destitute  of  water.  The  valley  is  some  fifty  miles  long  by  thirty 
in  breadth,  and  save  at  two  points  it  is  wholly  encircled  by 
mountains,  up  whose  steep  sides  it  is  impossible  for  any  but  ex- 
pert climbers  to  ascend.  It  is  devoid  of  vegetation,  and  shadow 
of  bird  or  beast  never  darkens  its  white,  glaring  sand.  In  the 
early  days  trains  of  emigrants  bound  for  California  passed, 
under  the  direction  of  guides,  to  the  south  of  Death  Valley,  by 
what  is  known  as  the  old  '  Mormon  road.'  In  the  year  1850,  a 


152  APPEARANCE   OF   THE   DEAD. 

large  train  with  some  three  hundred  and  fifty  emigrants,  mostly 
from  Illinois  and  Missouri,  came  south  from  Salt  Lake,  guided 
by  a  Mormon.  When  near  Death  Valley  a  dissension  broke  out 
in  a  part  of  the  train,  and  twenty-one  families  appointed  one  of 
their  number  a  leader  and  broke  off  from  the  main  party.  The 
leader  determined  to  turn  due  west;  so  with  the  people  and 
wagons  and  flocks,  he  traveled  for  three  days,  and  then  de- 
scended into  the  broad  valley  whose  treacherous  mirage  prom- 
ised water.  They  reached  the  center,  but  only  the  white,  glar- 
ing sand,  bounded  by  the  scorched  peaks,  met  their  gaze  on 
every  hand.  Around  the  valley  they  wandered,  and  one  by 
one  the  men  died,  and  the  panting  flocks  stretched  themselves 
in  death  under  the  hot  sun.  Then  the  children  crying  for 
water,  died  at  their  mothers'  breasts,  and  with  swollen  tongues 
and  burning  vitals,  the  mothers  followed.  Wagon  after  wagon 
was  abandoned,  and  strong  men  tottered,  and  raved  and  died. 
After  a  week's  wandering,  a  dozen  survivors  found  some  water 
in  the  hollow  of  a  rock  in  the  mountains.  It  lasted  but  a  short 
time,  when  all  perished  but  two,  who,  through  some  miraculous 
means,  got  out  of  the  valley,  and  followed  the  trail  of  their  for- 
mer companions.  Eighty  seven  persons,  with  hundreds  of  ani- 
mals, perished  in  this  fearful  place,  and  since  then,  the  name  of 
Death  Valley  has  been  applied  to  it.  Mr.  Spears  says  when  he 
visited  it  after  the  lapse  of  eighteen  years,  he  found  the  wagons 
still  complete,  iron  works  and  tires  bright,  and  the  shriveled 
skeletons  lying  in  many  places  side  by  side." 


CHAPTER     IX. 

THROUGH    NEVADA. 

Out  of  a  place— A  wanderer  again— Tired  of  Utah— Westward— Promontory- 
Salty  district— Queer  calculations— Down  the  Humboldt— Elko— White  Pine 
— "  John  Chinamen  "—Humboldt  Canon— Desert— Reese  River—"  Sinks  "— 
Morning  at  Truckee— Beauty  of  the  Sierras— Eureka !— Donner  and  Bigler 
Lakes — Western  Slope—"  Forty  miles  of  snow  sheds  " — Mining  towns — Cape 
Horn— Sublime  scenery— Scientific  engineering— Swiftly  downward— Scenery 
of  the  Pacific  slope— Out  upon  the  plain — The  California  autumn— Suburbs 
of  Sacramento. 

RETURNED  from  Seyier  to  Corinne  to  find  the  affairs 
of  the  Reporter  in  a  condition  of  beautiful  uncertainty. 
Both  my  partners  had  previously  sold  out  to  a  new 
man,  who  had,  in  my  brief  absence,  quietly  installed 
another  editor,  without  the  little  formality  of  consulting 
me.  The  "  Josephite  "  Mormons  were  just  then  gaining  a  little 
ground  in  Utah,  and  it  was  proposed  to  make  the  paper  a  sort 
of  "Josephite  organ,"  which  did  not  at  all  suit  me.  After  ten 
days  of  fruitless  effort  to  compromise  our  views,  I  gave  up  the 
contest,  put  my  share  of  the  concern  "  on  sale,"  and  was  out  of 
employment.  There  remained  nothing  for  me  but  the  uncertain 
chances  of  travel,  so  I  renewed  my  determination  of  the  pre- 
vious year  and  started  westward. 

Utah  is  a  favorite  place  for  the  curious,  but  one  grows  tired 
even  of  Utah,  with  all  its  curiosities  of  nature  and  religion  ;  its 
hot  springs  and  hotter  passions;  its  pure  air  and  water  and 
impure  ethics;  its  lofty  mountains  and  low  conceptions  of 
human  nature  ;  its  social  perversions,  blood-mixtures,  ignorance 
and  priestcraft.  All  these  charms  could  not  always  interest, 
and  on  the  afternoon  of  September  23d,  1869,  I  took  the  train 
westward,  determined  to  see  how  the  tide  of  human  life 

moved  on — 

153 


354  SALINE   BAYOUS. 

"  'Mid  sage-brush  in  Nevada  State, 
Where  silver-miners  congregate." 

Reaching  Promontory,  still  the  junction  of  Union  and  Cen- 
tral, by  dark,  I  was  surprised,  not  very  agreeably,  to  find  that 
my  fame  had  preceded  me.  All  the  "  sports'"  seemed  to  know 
me  at  sight,  which  I  could  not  account  for  till  a  friend  handed 
me  an  old  copy  of  the  Cincinnati  Commercial,  and  therein  I 
saw  my  former  letter,  containing  a  description  by  no  means 
flattering  of  this  same  "Robbers'  Roost/'  and  a  partial  expose 
of  the  little  games  practised  here.  But  one  copy  had  reached 
the  place,  and  that  had  been  handed  around  and  read  as  long 
as  it  would  hold  together,  causing  a  dangerous  mixture  of  wrath 
and  mirthfulness.  An  old  wonfe-dealer,  whose  acquaintance  I 
had  made  at  Benton  the  previous  year,  soon  hastened  to  take 
me  by  the  hand  with  many  compliments :  "  Capital,  sir,  capital ! 
Almost  equal  to  Mark  Twain;  good  burlesque;  much  pleased 
with  your  account  of  how  we  roped  the  old  Californians.  Now 
then,  as  long  as  you  stay  here,  stick  by  me,  and  you  shan't  be 
hurt."  I  availed  myself  of  his  kind  offer,  but  found  it  conve- 
nient to  go  west  on  the  first  train. 

We  change  here  to  the  plainer  cars  of  the  Central  Pacific,  and 
a  down  grade  of  fifty  miles  brings  us  to  Indian  Creek,  and 
Kelton  Station,  at  the  northwest  corner  of  the  lake,  and  in  a 
valley  of  alkali  flats  and  salt  beds  of  indescribable  barrenness. 
The  town  of  Kelton  will  certainly  never  spoil  for  want  of  salt. 
The  spring  rise  of  the  lake  covers  all  the  adjacent  low  lands, 
and  retiring  during  the  dry  season,  leaves  thousands  of  acres 
crusted  with  salt,  and  here  and  there  a  little  pond  with  deposits 
of  the  pure  crystal  a  foot  in  depth.  One  enterprising  firm 
proposes  to  dam  the  mouth  of  a  long  bayou  near,  and  place  a 
windmill  on  the  lake  shore,  with  force  sufficient  to  keep  the 
pond  thus  created  full  all  summer;  the  evaporation  would  be 
continuous  and  rapid,  making,  in  one  season,  half  a  million 
tons  of  salt.  The  lake  has  an  average  width  of  forty,  and 
length  of  ninety  miles  ;  in  the  center  it  is  forty  feet  in  depth, 
the  borders  shelving  gradually,  and  the  entire  body  will  average 
18  per  cent,  of  salt,  or  a  little  over  one  gallon  in  six  of  the 


155 


156  "CROCKER'S  PETS." 

fluid.  From  these  figures  it  is  estimated  that  the  entire  body 
contains  five  billion  tons  of  salt.  Rather  a  big  estimate,  but 
probably  it  would  take  that  much  to  sweeten  the  kingdom  of 
Brigham. 

Westward  from  the  Promontory  we  find  California  work  and 
ideas,  pay  in  coin,  and  encounter  everywhere  the  Chinese,  with 
their  singular  dresses  of  silk  and  linen,  their  chip  hats,  rice 
feed,  and  cheap  labor.  "  Crocker's  pets,"  as  they  were  then 
styled  on  the  Central,  worked  for  thirty-one  dollars  per  month 
and  boarded  themselves,  which  amounted  to  an  effectual  em- 
bargo on  white  laborers  wherever  they  came  into  competition. 
Of  course  there  was  furious  opposition,  "  prejudice  against 
color,"  and  jealousy  about  "our  proud  Caucasian  blood,"  and 
the  old-time  talk  about  the  freed  men  was  repeated  over  and 
over  again,  without  the  merit  of  variation. 

Naturally  enough,  the  politicians  are  deeply  interested,  and 
inquiring  earnestly,  "What  shall  we  do  with  them?"  It 
never  seems  to  occur  to  these  inquirers,  as  it  did  not  in  the 
case  of  the  free  negroes  in  the  North,  that  the  objects  of  their 
solicitude  are  doing  quite  well  without  their  interference.  It 
appeared  to  me  somewhat  ridiculous  that  those  who  took  such 
strong  ground  against  enfranchising  the  negroes  because  they 
were  "  lazy,  improvident,  and  worthless,"  were  just  as  savage 
against  the  Chinese  for  exactly  the  opposite  reasons:  that  they 
are  so  patient,  temperate,  laborious,  and  saving,  that  they  can 
work  cheaper  and  supplant  white  men. 

I  stopped  for  a  few  days'  observation  at  the  new,  enterprising 
and  furiously  speculative  town  of  Elko,  situated  in  the  best 
part — the  only  good  part — of  the  Humboldt  Valley,  and  the 
point  of  departure  for  the  White  Pine  mines  and  other  newly 
discovered  districts.  With  its  enormous  freighting  business  to 
the  mines  of  Eastern  Nevada,  Elko  has  better  chances  for  a 
continued  existence  than  most  of  the  "mushroom  towns"  on 
the  Pacific  Railway.  I  found  it  a  pretentious  and  lively  city. 
Most  of  the  business  men  were  "  Californiaized  Jews," — an 
improved  variety  of  the  race.  All  transactions  are  on  a  gold 
basis.  Greenbacks  wrere  then  taken  from  "  pilgrims,"  and 


A    BIG    DIGGER.  157 

under  protest,  at  seventy-five  cents  on  the  dollar,  not  following 
the  fluctuations  of  the  gold-room  except  at  long  intervals.  The 
climate  is  a  combination  of  hot  sun  and  cold  winds,  with  occa- 
sional wind-storms  and  frightful  clouds  of  alkali  dust — rather 
disagreeable  much  of  the  time.  The  stages  from  White  Pine 
came  in  loaded  heavily  every  day,  making  an  agreeable  liveli- 
ness and  change  of  population  ;  and  from  ten  to  forty  tons  of 
freight  went  on  to  the  same  place  by  the  long  mule  trains, . 
making  an  equal  liveliness  in  business  circles.  To  all  business 
intents,  Elko  was  a  White  Pine  town. 

White  Pine,  the  great  sensation  of  Nevada,  was  discovered  in 
1865,  by  a  band  of  "  prospectors  "  from  Austin.  After  a  weary 
journey  over  the  barren  mountains  of  Eastern  Nevada,  they 
came  upon  the  first  "  indications7'  at  what  is  now  known  as  the 
Piute  District.  Not  satisfied  with  these  they  descended  from 
Diamond  Range  into  the  present  Mohawk  Cailon,  where  they 
came  upon  the  first  "float"  now  so  celebrated.  Returning  to 
camp  one  evening  from  a  wreary  hunt,  they  came  upon  a  greasy 
Piute  smelling  around  their  meat-sacks,  aud  thrusting  his  filthy 
fingers  into  their  pot  of  beans.  With  kicks  and  curses  they 
drove  away  the  aborigine,  but  next  morning  he  returned  hold- 
ing in  his  hand  a  piece  of  green-tinged  rock,  on  which  their 
practised  eyes  detected  "horn  silver."  They  were  upon  him 
at  once  with  questions  as  to  where  he  got  it.  "  Heap  hungry — 
me  like  um  beans,"  was  the  diplomatic  reply  in  the  best  Eng- 
lish he  could  command.  No  kicks  or  curses,  no  driving  out 
now.  The  best  in  the  camp  was  at  his  command,  and  when 
gorged  to  repletion,  probably  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  the 
Digger  led  them  to  the  spot  where  he  obtained  his  specimen — 
the  place  now  famous  as  the  original  Hidden  Treasure  Lode. 
The  photograph  of  that  Indian  now  has  an  extensive  sale  in 
the  towns  of  White  Pine,  and  he  may  be  said  to  have  achieved 
immortality. 

Strangely  enough  White  Pine  remained  almost  unknown  fora 
year  or  two  after  the  discovery.  October  10th,  1865,  the  pioneers 
organized  the  mining  district,  which  they  named  from  the  forests 
of  scrubby  white  pine  which  cover  most  of  the  hills.  The  White 


158  RESTLESS   MINERS. 

Pine  range  extends  due  north  and  south  for  twelve  miles,  with 
an  average  altitude  of  nine  thousand  feet;  the  summers  are 
rendered  disagreeable  by  storms  of  wind  and  dust,  and  for  five 
months  of  winter  the  cold  is  excessive.  There,  as  in  most  parts 
of  Nevada,  a  man  with  an  umbrella  is  hailed  as  a  "pilgrim" — 
just  from  the  East ;  for  in  the  summer  it  rarely  rains,  and  when 
it  does,  an  umbrella  would  be  torn  to  ribands  in  five  minutes. 
Nevertheless,  White  Pine  became  the  goal  of  all  who  desired 
to  be  suddenly  rich.  The  "rush"  began  early  in  1868;  by  the 
opening  of  1870,  fifty  quartz-mills  were  in  operation,  and  the 
county  numbered  twenty  thousand  inhabitants. 

The  miner  is  the  most  restless  of  men — except,  perhaps,  the 
sailor.  In  a  poor  camp  he  longs  for  a  good  one;  in  a  good  one 
he  longs  for  a  better.  "With  steady  work,  at  six  or  seven  dollars 
a  day  profit,  he  will  drop  his  pick  at  a  moment's  notice  to  fol- 
low a  new  "excitement."  Notwithstanding  all  the  enormous 
fortunes  made  at  White  Pine,  I  met  dozens  every  day  who  were 
cursing  the  place  and  their  luck  in  it.  Eberhardt,  the  richest 
location,  is  synonymous  with  Eldorado ;  but  for  one  Eberhardt 
there  were  ten  thousand  "locations"  that  never  "paid  grub 
wages."  It  is  the  history  of  all  very  rich  mining  districts ; 
people  will  draw  too  largely  on  the  future,  and  the  wealth  of 
Potosi  would  not  have  averted  the  ruin  of  those  who  specu- 
lated too  deeply  and  rashly. 

Leaving  the  fast  town  of  Elko — from  Omaha  1305  miles, 
from  Sacramento  496,  above  sea-level  5092  feet — on  the  morn- 
ing of  September  30th,  we  moved  west-southwest  and  down  the 
Humboldt. 

The  scenery  is  not  inspiring.  The  only  view  of  any  gran- 
deur is  at  Humboldt  Canon,  now  better  known  as  the  Palisades, 
a  wild  gorge  through  which  the  river  has  forced  its  way  in  some 
far  distant  geologic  age,  and  where  the  railroad  track  lies  along 
the  base  of  a  perpendicular  rock  many  hundred  feet  in  hight. 
Far  below  the  excavated  track  the  waters  of  the  Humboldt 
foam  over  the  uneven  bottom  of  a  narrow  channel,  obstructed 
in  many  places  by  the  immense  rocks,  which  have  fallen  from 
the  cliff.  The  lack  of  colors  in  the  stone  prevents  that  singular 


GINAST1CUTIS. 


159 


ifl 


HUMBOLDT     PALISADES. 

variety  which  is  the  charrn  of  Echo  and  Weber  Cafions,  but 
the  cold  unchanging  grey  imparts  a  wild  and  gloomy  beauty 
instead.  On  the  south  side  of  the  canon  the  Devil's  Peak  rises 
fifteen  hundred  feet  directly  above  the  river.  In  a  cleft  near 
the  top  is  a  singular  looking  mass  of  sticks  and  long  roots,  just 
visible  from  below,  which  those  who  have  examined  it  aver  to 
be  a  mammoth  bird's  nest,  strongly  constructed  of  willows  and 
rushes,  which  still  endure  the  wear  of  the  elements  though 
abandoned  long  ago.  If  indeed  a  nest,  it  must  have  been  in- 
habited in  an  age  of  birds  larger  than  the  condor  or  any  exist- 
ing species.  A  fellow-traveler  suggested  that  the  occupant  was 
cotemporary  with  the  Hibernian  fowl,  generally  denominated 
the  "  Ginasticutis." 

In  the  old  days  of  crossing  the  continent  the  emigrants  could 
not  drive  through  this  canon ;  so  left  it  at  a  side  cafion  some 
miles  above,  and  toiled  a  wearisome  way  over  the  mountains, 
seeking  the  valley  again  by  the  first  practicable  route  below. 


160  A    DRY   STATE. 

This  brought  them  down  to  Gravelly  Ford,  one  of  the  few 
places  where  grass  was  rich  and  abundant;  and  here  emigrant 
companies  often  remained  several  weeks  to  rest  and  recruit  their 
stock.  The  Shoshonee  Indians  also  knew  the  place  well,  and 
many  a  fight  with  them  has  occurred  here ;  sometimes,  too,  it  is 
whispered,  with  "  painted  Mormons,"  caused  in  both  cases  by  a 
conflict  of  opinion  in  regard  to  the  ownership  of  stock. 

Thence  down  the  long,  shallow  Humboldt  there  is  little  to  be 
seen  but  the  same  dreary  and  unvarying  wastes,  relieved  but 
rarely  by  patches  of  bunch  grass  or  sagebrush.  Sometimes  a 
green  plat  appears  in  a  depression  of  the  valley,  or  an  occa- 
sional strip  of  meadow  land  near  the  river;  north  and  south"  of 
us  are  continuous  lines  of  hard,  bleak  and  forbidding  moun- 
tain peaks.  Late  in  the  day  we  reach  the  opening  of  Reese 
River  Valley,  forming  a  break  in  the  line  of  hills  south  of  the 
Humboldt.  Reese  River  rises  away  in  Southern  Nevada,  and 
after  running  two  hundred  miles  northward,  sometimes  almost 
disappearing,  and  again,  when  swollen  by  mountain  streams  in 
some  parts  of  its  course,  taking  almost  respectable  rank  as  a 
river,  it  finally  enters  the  open  plain  and  forms  a  "sink" 
before  reaching  the  Humboldt.  In  this  word  "sink"  the 
Western  man  embodies  an  empirical  explanation  of  the  disap- 
pearance of  the  water ;  but  elemental  action  and  reaction  are 
necessarily  equal,  whether  in  an  enclosed  basin  or  on  the  entire 
earth's  surface,  and  the  water  really  goes  upward  instead  of 
downward.  Eastern  readers  may  wonder  that  all  the  rivers  of 
Nevada  "  run  to  nothing,"  but  a  little  experience  in  the  State 
would  explain  the  matter.  If  the  Ohio  were  turned  into  the 
northeast  corner  of  the  Great  Basin,  not  a  drop  of  it  would 
ever  reach  the  Colorado — at  least  above  ground.  The  thirsty 
alkali  soil,  hot  sun  and  drying  air  would  exhaust  it  before  it 
could  traverse  the  State. 

Hot  springs  are  found  at  various  places  along  the  Humboldt; 
at  Elko,  Cluro,  or  Hot  Spring  Valley,  Golconda,  and  other 
places  ;  all  of  which  are  reported  "  highly  medicinal " — by  those 
who  own  town  lots  in  the  vicinity  I  suppose,  as  I  never  heard 
of  any  chemical  analysis.  Of  the  towns  along  the  route  little 


DRY    NEVADA. 


161 


ON   THE   TRUCKEE— C.  P.  R.  R. 

need  be  said.  Carlin,  Argenta,  Winnemucca,  and  several  others 
have  simply  the  history  of  Union  Pacific  towns  over  again  :  a 
roaring,  rattling  period  of  boisterous  life,  with  about  an  equal 
mixture  of  business  and  pleasure,  as  long  as  it  was  the  terminus, 
followed  by  a  sudden  decay  when  the  road  moved  on,  left  each 
in  a  state  of  half-hopefulness,  waiting  for  mines  to  be  discovered 
in  the  vicinity,  or  "  something  to  turn  up." 

At  dusk  we  turn  straight  west,  crossing  for  the  last  time  the 
noted  Humboldt,  which  has  been  decreasing  for  a  hundred  miles, 
and  is  now  shrunk  to  a  mere  slough,  meandering  sluggishly  to 
the  southward,  where  a  few  miles  further  on,  it  has  just  enough 
vitality  left  to  enter  the  "sink/'  and  then  exit  the  Humboldt. 
There  we  enter  upon  the  Great  Nevada  Desert — horror  of  early 
11 


162 


TIMBER   AGAIN. 


PLACER  MINING. 

Miners  shovel  earth,  containing  gold  dust,  into  a  flume — the  earth    is  washed  away  and  the 
gold  settles  to  the  bottom. 

emigrants — which  greedily  swallows  the  little  moisture  of  creeks, 
rivers  and  clouds,  but  yields  nothing  in  return.  In  it  and  on 
its  borders  are  Pyramid,  Humboldt,  Carson,  Winnenmcca,  and 
Mud  Lakes;  its  area  includes  all  the  Central  Basin  of  Nevada, 
and  in  every  part  are  found  evidences  of  recent  volcanic  action. 
But  sleep  intervened,  till  daylight  brought  to  view  the  wild 
scenery  of  the  Sierras,  upon  which  we  enter  along  the  course  of 
the  foaming  Truckee,  and  soon  after  passing  Verdi  Station,  at 
an  elevation  of  five  thousand  feet,  we  cross  the  dividing  line, 
and  shout  EUREKA,  for  we  are  in  Eldorado,  the  Golden 
State — California. 

Crossing  the  Truckee  we  take  an  additional  locomotive  and 
enter  upon  the  ascent  of  the  Sierras.  The  first  large  curve  up 
the  mountain  side  brings  us  above  Donner  Lake,  with  a  fine 
view  of  it ;  and  soon  after  we  are  almost  over  Lake  Bigler.  A 


GRAND   SCENERY. 


163 


CAPE   HORN— C.  P.  R.  R. 

little  farther  brings  us  to  Summit  Station,  highest  point  on  the 
Central  Pacific,  7042  feet  above  sea-level,  1669  miles  from 
Qmahp,  and  105  from  Sacramento.  We  enter  now  upon  the 
western  slope,  with  its  steep  descent,  and  with  the  brakes  "set 
up  "  and  very  little  steam,  we  still  rush  along  at  a  fearful  rate, 
at  one  place  running  twenty-five  miles  in  thirty  minutes,  with- 
out an  ounce  of  steam.  Forty  miles  of  snow  sheds  have  been 
erected  along  this  part  of  the  line  at  a  cost  of  a  million  and  a 
half  of  dollars ;  to  the  great  assurance  of  winter  passage,  but  to 
an  equal  hindrance  of  our  enjoyment  of  the  view. 

Running  out  upon  a  more  gentle  grade  we  pass  in  rapid  suc- 
cession Dutch  Flat,  Little  York,  You  Bet,  and  Red  Dog,  all 
old  mining  towns,  the  largest  still  containing  three  thousand 
inhabitants.  All  along  the  road  we  see  mile  after  mile  of 
flumes  running  in  every  direction  down  the  ridges,  and  carrying 
large  streams  to  be  used  in  hydraulic  mining  below,  and  in 
places  pass  hundreds  of  acres  of  "old  dirt,"  which  has  been 
washed  out  and  abandoned.  But  the  feature  of  greatest  interest, 


mm . 


164 


A    HIGHWAY.  165 

next  to  the  mountains  themselves,  is  the  tall  timber,  everywhere 
covering  the  slopes  and  crests  to  the  very  summit.  To  one  just 
from  the  treeless  plains  of  Nevada  and  Utah  the  sight  is  de- 
lightful, and  like  an  invalid  from  the  lumber  districts  of  Maine 
who  lately  passed  this  way,  one  feels  to  exclaim,  "  Thank  the 
Lord,  I  smell  pitch  once  more." 

The  finest  view  is  at  Cape  Horn,  but  the  sight  is  not  good  for 
nervous  people.  An  awful  chasm,  at  first  apparently  right 
before  us,  and  then  but  a  little  to  the  left,  opens  directly  across 
the  range  ;  and  standing  on  the  steps  of  the  car,  it  seems  as  if 
the  train  were  rushing  headlong  into  it.  The  first  view  allows 
the  sight  to  pierce  a  thousand  feet,  almost  straight  downward  to 
the  green  bottom,  where  the  trees  shrink  to  mere  shrubs,  and 
the  Chinamen  working  at  the  lumber  seem  like  pigmies;  a  little 
further  down  the  gorge  the  wagon  bridge,  hundreds  of  feet 
above  the  bottom,  appears  like  a  faint  white  band,  and  still  fur- 
ther the  sight  is  lost  in  a  blue  mist.  The  railroad  track  is  ex- 
cavated along  the  sides  and  around  the  head  of  this  gorge, 
where  in  aboriginal  days  the  Indians  had  not  even  a  foot-path, 
as  the  first  descent  from  the  head  of  the  chasm  is  six  hundred 
feet,  nearly  perpendicular.  When  the  road-bed  was  constructed, 
the  men  who  made  the  first  excavation  were  secured  by  ropes 
let  down  from  a  higher  point.  , 

Coming  out  of  this  wild  scenery  into  a  region  where  settle- 
ments begin  to  thicken,  and  gardens,  orchards,  and  cultivated 
fields  appear,  we  pass  Colfax,  Clipper  Gap,  Auburn,  New  Cas- 
tle, Rocklin,  and  Junction.  The  climate  changes  rapidly;  in 
place  of  the  gray-brown  vegetation  of  the  Basin,  we  see  the 
bright  yellow  grass  and  flowers  of  the  California  autumn,  and 
the  red  branches  and  pale  green  leaves  of  the  manzanita.  By 
noon  the  air  is  quite  warm.  Down  at  last  on  the  California 
side  of  the  Sierras  we  emerge  from  the  foot-hills  upon  a  rather 
level  plain,  dotted  with  clumps  of  trees,  and  more  rarely  a  cul- 
tivated field. 

We  seem  in  a  new  world ;  everything  has  a  more  southern  or 
tropical  appearance.  The  grass  is  quite  yellow,  in  places  with 
a  coppery  hue,  cured,  dried  up,  as  if  the  surface  had  been  uni- 


166 


CALIFORNIA    PLAINS. 


formly  scorched  over.  But  this  is  the  "  dry  season."  During 
winter  and  spring  this  plain  is  .  green  with  rich  grass ;  as  the 
season  advances  the  verdure  dries  upon  the  ground,  and  the 
Californian's  season  of  short  pasture  comes,  not  in  the  winter, 
but  in  the  late  summer  and  fall.  The  soil  is  rather  sandy.  The 
little  bayous  and  streams  appear  to  have  dried  up  many  weeks 
ago,  and  the  dust  is  quite  annoying. 

When  this  dry,  parched  region  has  begun  to  grow  monoto- 
nous, a  fresh  accession  of  green  indicates  that  we  are  on  marsh 
land.  Soon  after  we  run  upon  a  long  trestle  work,  then  pass 
the  bridge  over  American  River,  and  enter  upon  a  beautiful 
course  between  great  vineyards,  and  amid  the  semi-tropical  vege- 
tation, luxurious  gardens  and  well-watered  grass  plats,  which 
adorn  the  suburbs  of  the  State  Capital. 


INTERIOR   OF  PALACE-CAR  ON   CENTRAL   PACIFIC. 


CHAPTER    X. 

AFOOT   IN    CALIFORNIA. 

New  Spain — Poetry  and  fact — Saxon  and  Spaniard — Cavalier  and  Pioneer — Our 
Heroic  Age — The  American  Iliad — Sacramento — Yolo  county — ''Titles" — 
Chinese— California  Central  R.  R.— Ague— High  and  Low  Water-marks— 
Chinese  and  Chinese  labor — Acclimating  sickness — Davisville — Sericulture — 
Warner's  Vineyard — The  land  of  grapes — Pears,  apples,  and  figs — Up  Putah 
Creek — Drouth  and  dust — The  rainy  season  at  hand — Fruit  farms  near  the 
coast  range — Ranches  only,  not  homes — Popular  reasons  therefor — Agricultural 
items — Shall  we  settle  in  rural  California — Chinese  "  Devil-drive  " — Mongo- 
lian Theology — "  Josh  " — Blowing  up  the  Devil — Ah  Ching's  opinion — "  China 
like  Melica  man  !  "—Off  for  "  Frisco." 


his  day-dreams,  the  Spaniard  of  the  sixteenth  century 
saw  an  Eldorado  in  the  unknown  West;  a  land  of 
gold  and  glittering  gems,  of  flowers  and  fruit,  of 
shining  sands  and  crystal  streams,  of  soft  air  and  mild 
skies ;  where  a  temperate  climate  and  fertile  soil  prom- 
ised bodily  ease,  and  unfailing  health  was  to  be  gained  from 
fountains  of  youth-restoring  virtue — the  Hesperia  of  ancient 
poets  realized  in  the  New  World.  For  this,  Narvaez,  De  Soto, 
and  a  host  of  others,  sought  long  and  traveled  far,  but  died 
without  the  sight;  nature  had  provided  no  " Islands  of  the 
blest,?  even  amid  the  soft  airs  of  the  Pacific. 

There  was,  however,  an  Eldorado  there ;  not  the  fabled  clime 
which  lured  the  imaginative  Spaniard,  but  still  a  land  of  wealth 
and  plenty,  where  industry  was  to  find  a  bounteous  reward,  and 
enterprise  build  up  a  golden  State.  But  not  for  a  superstitious 
race,  ignorant  of  true  liberty,  was  this  domain  reserved.  In  the 
divine  predestination  of  history  this  hidden  wealth  was  to  serve 
the  puposes  of  freedom  ;  it  was  to  aid  a  civilization  based  on 
individual  thought  and  energy;  to  strengthen  a  free  Republic, 

167 


168 


A   FULL-GROWN    STATE. 


SACRAMENTO. 


and  in  the  dark  hour  furnish  the  "sinews  of  war,"  in  a  death- 
struggle  with  slavery. 

For  two  centuries,  men  of  Spanish  extraction  wandered  amid 
the  beauties  of  California,  ignorant  of  her  capacities  and  making 
but  awkward  use  of  the  hundredth  part  of  her  surface  wealth, 
till  the  fullness  of  time  came,  when  enlightened  freemen  owned 
the  soil,  and  so  soon  thereafter  as  to  show  a  providence,  her 
hidden  wealth  was  made  known.  From  that  day  the  history 
of  the  State  reads  like  a  romance.  At  once,  and  from  every 
part  of  the  Great  Republic,  half  a  million  of  freemen  came 
crowding  to  this  coast;  and  with  scarce  a  period  of  transition, 
without  the  slow,  irregular  growth  of  a  territorial  childhood, 
this  commonwealth  sprang,  full-orbed,  into  Statehood,  like 
Minerva  from  the  brain  of  Jupiter. 

It  is  not  at  all  surprising  that  Californians  should  be  inclined 
to  boast ;  or  that  they  should  seem  proud  even  of  their  vices. 
It  is  in  the  air,  the  clime,  more  than  all  in  the  history  of  their 
State.  Their  virtues  and  vices  are  so  near  akin  in  their  origin  : 
both  spring  from  that  riotous  exuberance  of  nature,  that  prodi- 
gality of  life  both  animal  and  vegetable,  which  makes  existence 
on  this  coast  a  constant  excitement.  The  material,  too,  which 
made  California  was  of  no  common  kind.  The  pioneers  were 


HALF  A   MILLION    HEROES.  169 

men  of  extremes;  they  did  not  stop  half  way,  either  in  their 
work  or  pleasures,  and  with  the  rapid  changes  of  early  days  it 
is  not  surprising  that  dissipation  and  crime  kept  even  pace  with 
hardy  enterprise,  in  the  very  recklessness  of  perverted  energy. 
Of  all  who  came  to  California  in  the  various  u  excitements," 
from  1848  to  1855,  in  general  only  the  most  successful  or  the 
most  utterly  ruined,  remained ;  but,  combined  with  the  expe- 
rience of  those  who  returned,  their  history  makes  one  of  the 
grandest  chapters  of  our  day.  Time  only  is  needed  to  add  its 
bright  halo,  to  make  that  our  "  heroic  age,"  and  those  the  demi- 
gods of  our  social  and  commercial  history. 

Consider  that  twenty-five  years  ago  the  vast  distance  overland 
was  alone  enough  to  appal  the  ordinary  mind  ;  add  to  that  the 
broad  prairies,  the  rugged  mountains  and  scorched  deserts,  the 
great   plains    without   water,  the    unknown    character   of  the 
country,  the  great  rivers  with  their  fords  of  treacherous  sands, 
the  savage  Indians,  then  threatening  the  whole  route,  the  danger 
from  sickness  and  loss  of  supplies,  and  to  this  all  the  imagina- 
tion could  supply  of  unknown   terrors,  and   it  seems  amazing 
that  any  considerable  number  of  men  should  ever  contemplate 
such  a  journey.     But,  despite  all  this,  the  love  of  gold  and  ad- 
venture led  half  a  million  men  to  brave  all  these  perils.     \Ve 
talk  much  of  the  noted  men  in  our  colonial  history  ;  but  there 
is  scarcely  a  township  in  the  United  States  but  has  one  or  more 
men  who  have  traveled  more  miles,  seen  more  of  nature  and 
adventure,  risked  greater  danger  and  undergone  more  toil  and 
hardship,  than  did  the  famous  Captain  John  Smith  in  settling 
Virginia.     Where  is  the  Homer  who  shall  sing  the  American 
Iliad — of  the  half  million  heroes  who  attacked  and  conquered 
the  wild    obstructions  of  nature ;    or   the  Odyssey   of  the  re- 
turning brave,  who  retraced  their  steps  for  the  most  part  with 
wounds  and  glory  for  their  pay  ? 

The  Treaty  of  Guadaloupe  Hidalgo  made  California  ours  in 
October,  1848.  A  few  weeks  before,  a  laborer  named  Marshal 
picked  up  the  first  piece  of  gold  in  the  almost  unknown  terri- 
tory. To-day  we  enter  a  rich  and  powerful  State  by  the 
greatest  railway  in  the  world. 


SACRAMENTO    VALLEY.  171 

I  remained  a  week  in  Sacramento,  which  I  found  lively  and 
beautiful ;  but  the  peculiar  condition  of  the  pocket-nerve  ren- 
dered it  insalubrious  as  a  continued  residence  for  me.  Besides, 
the  towns  could  give  me  but  little  idea  of  the  natural  wealth  of 
the  State,  though  the  towns  only  have  been  described  by  the  press, 
and  in  the  accounts  of  most  travelers  San  Francisco  is  California. 
So  on  the  morning  of  October  12th,  knapsack  in  hand,  I  started 
to  see  the  rural  districts. 

Crossing  the  Sacramento  to  the  little  town  of  Washington,  in 
Yolo  County,  then  the  terminus  of  the  California  Central  Rail- 
road, I  followed  the  track  of  that  road  for  ten  miles  as  the  best 
way  to  get  through  the  "  tule  lands."  These  constitute  a  tract 
nearly  ten  miles  wide,  overflowed  during  the  winter  and  spring, 
and  till  late  in  summer  intersected  by  almost  impassable  sloughs. 
Tule  is  the  Spanish  or  Indian  name  of  a  coarse  reed  which 
covers  the  entire  tract,  green  during  winter  and  spring,  but  now 
dry  as  tinder,  and  furnishing  fuel  for  extended  fires.  Far  down 
among  the  reeds,  which  often  exceeded  ten  feet  in  hight,  I  saw 
cattle  hunting  for  scattering  clumps  of  grass  which  still  had  a 
little  shade  of  green  in  the  moisture  preserved  by  the  tules. 
Beyond  this  tract,  the  road  emerges  into  a  vast  plain,  overflowed 
for  many  miles  out  in  winter,  but  now  dry  and  dusty,  and 
covered  with  coarse  grass  of  a  yellowish  brown  color,  which 
looks  to  the  Eastern  eye  as  if  every  particle  of  nutriment  were 
burnt  out  of  it. 

Eight  miles  from  Sacramento  I  rested  at  the  Tule  House. 
The  previous  winter  a  good-sized  steamer  ran  out  every  day  to 
this  hotel,  and  tied  up  to  the  porch  of  the  upper  story,  their 
water  privileges  being  uncommonly  good  for  four  months  in  the 
year.  Many  and  various  are  the  schemes  proposed  to  reclaim 
and  utilize  this  overflow  tract,  extending  some  ten  miles  out 
from  the  river.  The  one  most  favorably  received  is,  to  cut  an 
immense  canal  directly  across  the  big  bend  of  the  Sacramento 
from  near  Marysville  to  the  head  of  Suisun  Bay,  which,  ac- 
cording to  the  engineers,  would  leave  the  land  dry  two  months 
earlier  in  the  spring.  The  soil  is  ten  feet  in  depth,  formed 
by  deposits  from  the  annual  overflows ;  and  the  advocates  of 


172 


MA  LA  RIOUS    COITNTR  Y, 


GEYSERS,     PLUTON    RIVER,   CALIFORNIA. 

rice  culture  here  claim  that  it  would  support  "five  head  of 
Chinamen  to  the  acre." 

At  present  it  is  prolific  of  death  rather  than  life,  and  at  the 
first  place  I  stopped,  I  was  painfully  reminded  of  the  Wabash 
"bottoms,"  by  finding  the  whole  family  suffering  from  ague. 
This  was  contrary  to  all  I  had  heard  of  California,  but  I  found 
all  the  country  near  this  level  tract  abundant  in  bilious  diseases. 
The  inhabitants  testify  that,  near  the  foothills,  it  was  formerly 
healthy,  but  sickness  was  caused  by  the  system  of  mining : 
"  The  water  is  used  over  and  over  again  ;  run  into  different 
reservoirs  and  left  to  settle,  and  when  one  fills  up,  a  new  one's 
made,  and  t'other  left  bare  to  the  hot  sun."  Such  is  the  local 
diagnosis,  and  I  may  add  that  I  never  visited  any  part  of 
America  where  the  inhabitants  were  not  confident  "  it  would  be 
the  healthiest  place  in  the  State,  if" —  so  and  so  were  not  the 
case. 

At  one  point  I  found  the  railroad  running  on  trestle-work  for 


CHINAMEN. 


173 


"NO  SAHVEY. 


a  mile,  over  a  marsh  filled  with  water  four  months  ago,  but  now 
dry  as  the  hot  rays  of  a  California  sun,  from  six  months  of 
cloudless  sky,  could  make  it.  Where  a  good  sized  steamer 
might  have  run  last  January  is  now  a  bed  of  dust,  whence  the 
lightest  winds  raises  stifling  clouds.  A  little  green  grass  is 
occasionally  seen  in  the  shade  of  the  tules,  and  a  few  thrifty  shrubs 
indicate  moisture  beneath.  After  a  year's  experience  it  has  been 
found  necessary  to  raise  the  whole  road-bed  four  feet.  In  this 
work  I  encountered  many  gangs  of  Chinese,  with  their  wicker- 
work  basket-shaped  hats,  stolid,  impassive  air,  and  universal 
no  sahvey  ("  don't  understand  ")  to  every  question.  To  me  they 
all  looked  alike,  the  same  size,  and  seemed  to  have  been  cast  in 
the  same  mould.  It  hardly  seemed  possible  that  I  could  get 
well-acquainted  with  one  individual.  But  their  Yankee  over- 
seers tell  me  this  is  "all  a  notion  at  first  sight ; "  that  they  see 
as  much  difference  as  among  whites,  and  when  called  upon  to 
identify  one  under  oath,  which  is  often  the  case,  do  so  without 
difficulty.  To  me  they  appear  to  work  very  slowly,  feebly 


174  CALIFORNIA   SILK. 

even ;  but  the  overseers  credit  them  with  great  steadiness,  and 
aver  that  one  does  as  much  in  a  day  as  an  average  Irishman. 
They  use  no  coffee  and  very  little  water,  making  tea  their  regu- 
lar beverage,  both  at  meals  and  work. 

Those  employed  on  this  road  receive  twenty -eight  dollars  a 
month,  boarding  themselves  and  resting  Sundays.  It  costs 
them  a  dollar  and  a  half  each  per  week  to  live.  They  have  but 
two  holidays,  which  they  observe  with  great  festivity :  the 
Chinese  New  Year's,  occurring  either  in  January  or  February, 
as  their  year  contains  thirteen  lunar  months;  and  the  "Devil- 
drive,"  which  takes  place  in  October.  Chinese  labor  is  only 
relatively  cheap  :  in  California  it  costs  but  half  that  of  white 
laborers,  or  even  less ;  but  in  the  Eastern  States  the  difference 
is  too  little  to  furnish  just  grounds  to  that  class  who  manifest  so 
much  horror  about  "an  invasion  of  barbarous  Mongolians/' 

My  haste  to  reach  the  hills  was  moderated  by  sudden  sick- 
ness, resulting  from  too  free  use  of  water  from  the  shallow  wells 
of  the  valley,  and  I  learned  by  painful  experience  that  new- 
comers must  get  acclimated  in  California  as  well  as  in  the  South. 
Taking  a  short  rest  at  Davisville,  fifteen  miles  from  Sacramento, 
I  was  much  interested  in  a  Cocoonery  just  established  there.  A 
large  field  had  been  planted  in  mulberry  trees  ;  a  factory  large 
enough  to  employ  a  hundred  hands  was  being  erected,  and  the 
experiment  is  now  in  active  and  favorable  operation.  Sericul- 
ture will,  I  have  no  doubt,  constitute  one  of  the  leading  interests 
of  California,  as  capable  men  are  entering  upon  it  at  several 
places,  and  there  can  scarcely  be  a  doubt  that  the  climate  and 
soil  are  well  adapted  thereto.  The  want  of  cheap  labor  has 
been  the  great  hindrance ;  and  this  brings  us  again  to  the 
Chinese,  who  will  probably  soon  become  silk  manufacturers 
here  as  they  are  at  home. 

I  also  spent  half  a  day  in  the  noted  vineyard  of  Fred.  War- 
ner, Esq.,  which  contains  a  hundred  acres  of  grapevines,  yield- 
ing several  thousand  gallons  of  wine  yearly.  The  "  picking 
season"  was  over,  but  there  were  still  enough  on  the  vines  to 
furnish  a  plentiful  repast.  Many  thousand  bunches  had  dried 
upon  the  stem  and  tasted  more  like  raisins  than  grapes,  unless 


TROPICAL   FRUITS.  175 

they  happened  to  be  of  the  more  acid  Sonoma  variety,  which 
had  a  strong,  fiery  taste. 

The  capacity  of  this  soil  and  climate  for  grapes  is  indeed 
wonderful ;  every  variety  from  the  extreme  north  to  the  tropics 
seems  to  find  here  a  congenial  location,  a  second  native  country, 
so  to  speak,  where  they  attain  a  size  and  fineness  of  flavor  almost 
incredible.  In  this  vineyard  I  noted  particularly  a  kind  called 
the  Black  Hamburg,  far  sweeter  than  the  variety  of  that  name 
in  Indiana,  which  seemed  to  me  the  perfection  of  grapes. 

The  Californians  also  boast  much  of  their  apples,  but  I  am  not 
so  well  pleased  with  them;  they  seem  to  me  overgrown,  lacking 
in  piquancy,  cloying  and  "  filling "  to  an  extreme,  and  what 
we,  when  boys,  used  to  call  "  pethy."  From  the  vineyard  we 
wandered  through  a  large  orchard,  noting  on  the  way  a  heavy 
growth  of  large  yellow  pears,  which  to  my  taste  partook  of  the 
same  fault  as  the  apples ;  and  thence  into  a  plantation  of  fig 
trees,  with  broad  dark  green  leaves  and  purple  fruit,  of  which 
we  found  enough  of  the  last  crop  to  satisfy  a  moderate  appetite. 

When  first  gathered,  figs  are  almost  black,  but  when  washed 
and  dried  they  turn  a  pale  yellow  color — the  fig  of  commerce. 
The  trees  never  bloom ;  the  heavy  leaves  are  of  one  color  nearly 
all  the  year,  and  the  fruit  starts  like  a  small  knob  just  below  the 
joining  of  the  foliage.  Those  on  the  south  side  of  the  tree  are, 
in  this  latitude,  generally  best,  as  they  require  for  protection 
both  heat  and  shade.  They  are  growing  for  ten  months  in  the 
year,  sometimes  starting  even  in  the  coldest  weather.  The  first 
crop  ripens  by  the  first  or  middle  of  July,  and  the  second  early 
in  September.  There  is  seldom  a  period  of  over  two  weeks  be- 
tween the  crops,  and  generally  a  few  are  ripe  on  the  tree  at  any 
time.  Sometimes  enough  ripen  late  in  October  to  constitute  a 
third  crop.  When  gathered  from  the  tree  the  fig  is  excessively 
sweet  and  rather  juicy,  full  of  soft  red  seeds  ;  perhaps  not  quite 
so  cloying  as  the  shop  fig,  but  a  very  few  satisfy.  As  I  wan- 
dered through  the  brilliant  maze  of  red  and  yellow  flowers,  and 
tasted  these  tropical  fruits,  it  seemed  impossible  we  could  be  in 
the  same  latitude  as  my  home  in  Indiana,  where  I  had  enjoyed 
sleighing  and  skating  for  two  months  in  the  year. 


176  THE   DRY   SEASON. 

From  Davisville  I  travel  up  Putah  Creek,  all  day  through  a 
rich  level  country,  covered  now  with  the  rich  haze  of  autumn, 
the  air  seeming  full  of  red  dust  and  smoke;  pass  occasionally 
clumps  of  trees  and  very  inferior  looking  farm  houses,  seldom 
painted  or  well-finished ;  traverse  mile  after  mile  of  continuous 
wheat  fields,  with  stubble  still  bright  though  the  crop  was  har- 
vested four  months  ago,  and  find  the  same  dry,  dusty  grassless 
look  over  the  whole  landscape.  The  entire  valley  is  devoted  to 
the  growth  of  wheat  and  barley,  with  the  exception  of  occasional 
stock-ranches  which  also  appear  devoid  of  life  at  this  season, 
with  the  same  old  look,  and  half-Southern,  half-Spanish  air  of 
shiftless  discomfort.  There  is  a  painful  monotony  about  the 
road,  which  runs  unfenced  through  a  constant  succession  of  wheat 
fields,  where  the  dust  has  blown  in  rifts  till  the  surface  appears 
to  have  been  plowed  again.  But  this  is  the  worst  and  last  of 
the  dry  season.  A  few  weeks  hence  copious  showers  will  drench 
this  dusty  plain,  and  a  rich  velvety  coloring  will  transform  the 
landscape;  a  few  weeks  more  and  the  bright  green  of  the  "  grow- 
ing season  "  will  follow,  and  by  the  first  of  February,  rural 
California  will  present  a  delightful  and  verdant  appearance. 

Now  my  prevailing  impression  is  one  of  drought:  fields 
parched  and  cracked  open,  dust  in  great  heaps  among  the  dried 
vegetation,  grass  withered  and  burnt,  while  the  largest  creeks 
are  entirely  dried  up  or  shrunk  to  mere  rivulets,  pursuing  their 
sluggish  and  doubtful  course  away  down  at  the  bottom  of  deep 
gulches  which  in  winter  and  spring  are  filled  by  immense  tor- 
rents. At  night  the  horizon  is  lighted  up  by  fires  raging  in  the 
stubble  on  the  high  lands  or  among  the  tulc-s  lower  down,  and 
by  day  the  sun  is  obscured  and  distant  objects  hidden  by  the 
smoke  or  light  haze,  which  corresponds  to  our  eastern  Indian 
summer  and  is  here  the  immediate  precursor  of  the  first  rain. 

Reaching  the  foothills  of  the  Coast  Range  I  find  an  agreeable 
change  among  the  fruit  farms ;  and  after  a  few  days7  rest  there, 
I  incline  to  the  opinion  that  most  of  the  beauty  of  country  life 
in  this  State,  as  poets  have  described  it,  is  to  be  found  in  the 
fruit  regions.  The  grain  districts  are  certainly  far  from  lovely 
at  this  season.  Grass  does  not  grow  about  the  yards  unless  irri- 


AGRICULTURE.  177 

gated  occasionally,  and  not  one  family  in  twenty  has  a  windmill 
or  other  arrangements  for  irrigation.  The  people  seem  to  be 
aware  of  these  deficiencies  and  are  often  profuse  in  reasons  there- 
for :  "  The  country  is  new,  and  we  hav Vt  all  got  our  land  paid 
for  yet;  many  got  'grant  land/  and  got  -too  much,  and  are 
bothered  to  pay  for  it ;  grass  don't  start  up  here  like  it  does  in 
the  States ;  it  has  to  be  watered  and  we're  not  fixed  with  pumps 
yet ;  we  want  to  make  some  money  first,  and  after  awhile  when 
we  can  build  larger  houses  it  will  be  time  to  fix  up,"  etc.,  etc. 

Another  class  fall  back  on  this  general  formula  :  "If  people 
would  only  economize  here  like  they  do  in  the  States,  they'd 
get  rich  mighty  fast;  but  they  don't  economize,  in  fact,  they 
can't;  California's  the  best  place  in  the  world,  splendid  place, 
long's  you've  got  plenty  o'  money;  but  it's  the  worst  country 
in  the  world  if  you're  out  o'  money."  Which  opinion  I  endorse 
with  qualifications,  and  modestly  add :  The  subscriber  never 
found  a  good  country  in  which  to  be  "  out  o'  money,"  having 
tried  it  often. 

As  Yolo  is  an  exclusively  agricultural  county,  and  a  fair 
specimen  of  rural  California,  the  prospective  emigrant  may  be 
interested  in  a  few  plain  figures,  which  I  copied  from  the  reports 
at  Woodland — county  seat — -which  will  enable  him  to  make  up 
his  mind  better  than  from  any  opinion  of  my  own. 

Yolo  has  a  long  irregular  shape,  sixty  miles  from  northeast  to 
southwest,  with  an  average  width  of  fifteen  miles.  The  eastern 
half  is  almost  a  dead  level ;  next  west  of  that  is  a  narrow  strip 
of  undulating  prairie,  rising  gradually  to  the  foothills  of  the 
Coast  Range.  The  level  strip  consists  of  some  five  miles  oftule 
tract  and  about  as  much  more  grain  land.  Cotton  wood,  syca- 
more and  willow  grow  sparsely  along  the  water  courses,  and 
oak  and  pine  on  the  foothills.  My  figures  are  for  the  year  1866, 
the  last  obtainable,  when  100,000  acres  were  under  cultivation. 
These  produced  867,590  bushels  of  wheat,  raised  on  26,408 
acres;  70,000  bushels  of  oats,  1250  bushels  of  rye,  16,120  bush- 
els of  Indian  corn,  150  bushels  of  buckwheat,  200  bushels  of 
peas,  4000  bushels  of  castor  beans,  4042  bushels  of  peanuts,  be- 
sides 1500  pounds  of  tobacco  and  6  pounds  of  silk  cocoons — the 
12 


178  CHANCES   FOB   SETTLERS. 

last  two  industries  being  just  established.  The  same  year  were 
produced  97,020  pounds  of  butter,  7040  pounds  of  cheese, 
162,680  pounds  of  wool,  and  26,244  pounds  of  honey,  with 
small  quantities  of  hay,  potatoes,  beets  and  onions.  The  pomo- 
logicai  report  gives  the  number  of  fruit  trees  :  apple  29,430, 
peach  31,350,  pear  12,148 — fig  trees  not  counted — and  a  few 
lemon,  orange  and  olive  trees,  were  more  as  an  experiment  than 
otherwise.  There  were  also  a  hundred  thousand  grapevines  in 
the  county,  and  18,637  gallons  of  wine  and  5687  of  brandy 
were  made  from  the  vintage  of  that  year.  Of  live  stock  there 
were  59,166  sheep,  14,644  hogs,  4480  horses,  1976  mules,  2492 
cows  and  4604  beef  cattle.  The  population  of  the  county  was 
twelve  thousand,  which  shows  a  good  average  of  individual 
wealth.  The  price  of  land  I  found  to  be  from  one-third  to  one- 
half  what  it  is  in  the  old  farming  districts  of  Indiana.  The 
climate  for  the  first  six  months  in  the  year — I  record  my  later 
experience  in  California — is  doubtless  the  finest  in  the  world. 
For  the  last  four,  it  is  perhaps  the  worst — two  months  of  ter- 
rible dust,  followed  by  torrents  of  rain  and  oceans  of  mud.  The 
other  two  months  are  just  as  it  happens.  Sometimes  July  and 
August  are  delightful — always  so  among  the  foothills  and  higher 
valleys ;  but  if  a  small  amount  of  rain  has  fallen,  or  if  the 
"  later  rain  "  has  not  put  in  an  appearance,  they  are,  in  local 
phrase,  "tolerable  dry."  An  eastern  man  would  pronounce 
them  intolerably  dusty. 

If  you  have  average  industry  and  intelligence — and,  of 
course,  you  won't  be  reading  this  book  if  you  havVt — and  can 
get  there  with  a  thousand,  or  even  five  hundred  dollars  clear, 
you  can  do  well — far  better  than  with  the  same  amount  in 
Indiana  or  Ohio.  You  ought  to  expect  to  make  preparations  for 
about  six  weeks  of  winter,  but  not  one  in  twenty  of  the  farmers 
do.  Their  stock  take  chances,  and  those  which  don't  get  through 
alive  are  merely  considered  "  out  o'  luck."  The  country  people 
are  generally  a  trifle  shiftless  and  lazy;  and  the  probabili- 
ties are  that  when  you  have  been  there  five  years,  you  will  be  as 
shiftless  and  lazy  as  they  are. 

With  the  capital  above  mentioned,  you  can  get  some  kind  of 


CHINATOWN. 


179 


IN  Tin-:  josii  iiorsi:. 


a  start  on  a  stock-ranch,  grain  or  fruit  farm.  But  if  you  have 
no  money,  stay — well,  it  don't  make  much  difference  where  you 
are.  In  that  case  I  don't  know  but  California  is  as  good  a 
place  as  any  other  to  fight  out  the  battle  of  life  on  the  line  of 
hard  work,  but  it  will  take  all  summer,  and  several  of  them. 

After  a  long  "tramp"  among  the  fruit  farms,  I  returned  to 
Sacramento,  falling  in  everywhere  along  the  road  with  parties 
of  Chinamen  going  in  to  the  great  "Devil-drive."  I  made 
haste  to  reach  the  city  in  time  for  that  performance,  which  took 
place  October  18th,  with  imposing  ceremonies.  Nearly  all  the 
Chinese  in  Sacramento  live  on  /  street,  which  for  ten  blocks  is 


180  "TOP-SIDE  JOSH." 

the  same  as  a  town  in  China.  There  were  at  least  four  thou- 
sand in  the  city  on  this  occasion,  the  workmen  from  all  the 
railroads  being  present;  and  with  the  blowing  of  horns, 
beating  gongs,  talking  and  yelling,  by  Mongolian  courtesy 
called  singing,  and  open  air  theatres  and' bands,  they  made  the 
evening  lively. 

Nearly  all  the  Chinese  in  America  are  Orthodox  Boodhists, 
there  being  very  few  of  the  followers  of  Confucius,  who  are  the 
fashionable  infidels  or  philosophers  of  China,  while  the  Bood- 
hists constitute  the  High  Church  party.  They  reason  the  matter 
thus:  "If  God  good,  why  pray?  Tend  to  the  Devil."  Hence 
this  ceremony  of  driving  out  the  latter.  In  company  with  a 
few  whites  I  crowded  through  the  mass  of  Mongolians  to  where 
a  tobacco  factory  had  been  converted  into  a  temporary  "Josh- 
house."  They  are  not  at  all  sensitive  or  exclusive  about  their 
religion,  and  made  way  for  us  to  reach  the  interior  very  good- 
naturedly. 

We  found  the  Devil  "  out  in  the  cold " — a  hideous  black 
figure,  easily  recognized  as  the  Evil  One,  set  upon  a  pedestal 
just  outside  the  door.  Within  were  two  enormous  "Joshes" 
ten  feet  high,  one  in  each  corner,  and  over  them  a  shelf  filled 
with  little  household  gods,  two  feet  or  so  in  length,  while  behind 
the  altar  the  Boodhist  priests  and  attendant  boys  were  going 
through  a  ceremony  very  similar  to  High  Mass.  The  Bood- 
hists, like  the  Mormons,  believe  in  a  regular  gradation  of  gods, 
rising  one  above  another  to  the  great  head  god,  whom  the  Mor- 
mons call  Eloheim,  and  the  Chinese  "Top-side  Josh." 

Outside,  booths  with  open  front  were  erected,  in  which  vari- 
ous plays  were  being  performed  in.  choice  Tartar,  the  view  free 
to  the  crowd.  This  continued  till  midnight,  when  a  general 
chorus  of  priests  and  bands  announced  the  close  of  the  festi- 
val (?),  and  a  torch  was  applied  to  the  Devil.  The  figure, 
which  proved  to  be  full  of  fire-crackers,  "  went  off"  in  brilliant 
style  till  nothing  was  left  apparently  but  the  hideous  head  and 
back-bone;  these  then  shot  upward  like  a  huge  Roman  ciindle, 
leaving  a  trail  of  blue  fire,  and  exploded  high  in  the  air  with  a 
loud  report,  followed  by  a  shower  of  sparks  and  insufferable 


THE    DEVIL    GONE    UP. 


181 


AH  CHING'S  THEOLOGY. 

stench — and  that  was  supposed  to  be  the  last  of  the  Devil  for 
another  year. 

Poor  Heathen !  They  have  no  such  simple  devices  as  horse- 
shoes and  sieves,  nailed  to  the  stable-door,  or  stuck  up  over  the 
bed,  nor  any  of  the  civilized  contrivances  known  to  our  own  en- 
lightened rustics ;  and  so  they  trust  to  keep  off  Satan's  agents 
with  inexplicable  dumb  show  and  noise. 

Turning  away  with  a  feeling  of  relief  that  the  Devil  was 
gone  at  last,  I  encountered  Ah  Ching,  our  Mongolian  laundry- 
man  at  the  Pacific  Hotel,  who  spoke  some  English,  and  had  an 
intellect  that  was  "  not  to  be  sneezed  at,"  of  whom  I  sought 
information,  and  received  it  thus : 

"  Hallo,  John,  do  you  believe  in  him?" 


182 


"  PIGEON-ENGLISH." 


"  Oh,  velley,  Melica  man,  me  believe  him." 

"  All  Chinamen  believe  in  him?" 

"  Oh,  China  like  Melica  man.  Some  believe  him,  sahvey ; 
some  tink  him  all  gosh  damn." 

And  I  felt  that   I  was  answered. 

I  went  next  to  San  Francisco  and  remained  ten  days; 
but  as  the  subject  is  a  large  one,  I  beg  leave  to  reserve  my 
notes  upon  that  city,  which  will  be  found  under  the  appro- 
priate heading. 

NOTE  :— The  word  "  Jesh,"  or  "  Joss,"  is  not  Chinese,  but  "  Pigeon-English," 
a  language  used  in  the  ports  of  China.  It  results  from  speaking  English  with 
Chinese  idioms,  and  contains  also  a  number  of  new  words  fabricated  by  sailors 
and  traders. 


ENTRANCE  TO  THE  QUICKSILVER  MINE  OF  NEW  ALMADEN,  CAL. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

UTAH   AGAIN. 

Elected  defendant— Utah  law— Polygamous  judges— Trial  at  Brigham  City- 
Assault  on  the  author — Skillful  surgery — Rapid  recovery — "  Write  a  history 
of  the  Mormons !  " — Visit  the  East — Return  to  Utah — Political — Bear  River 

•  eanal  scheme — Author  goes  to  Washington — Miseries  of  a  lobbyist — Election 
of  1870— Gen.  Geo.  R.  Maxwell— Debate  on  polygamy—  Cui  bono  ?— Mormon 
morals  and  Gentile  associations. 

HILE  I  was  enjoying  myself  amid  the  soft  airs  of  the 
Pacific,  a  beautiful  mess  of  trouble  was  preparing  for 
me  *n  Utah.     In  most  of  the  Territories  it  is  "Your 
money  or  your  life ; "  but  in  Utah  a  Gentile  was  after 
my  property,  and  the  Mormons  seeking  my  life.     Be- 
tween them  they  got  the  first,  and  came  very  near  getting  the 
second. 

As  I  previously  stated,  I  had  originally  two  partners  in 
the  Reporter,  both  of  whom  sold  out  to  one  man ;  and  in  a 
month  he  and  I  quarreled  about  the  policy  of  the  paper.  Dur- 
ing my  absence  he  had  fixed  up  a  case  under  the  peculiar  attach- 
ment laws  of  Utah,  and  by  the  merest  accident  I  received  a 
copy  of  the  paper  containing  the  legal  notice.  Taking  the 
train  at  once  I  reached  Corinne  the  day  before  the  trial,  which 
was  to  take  place  at  Brigham  City,  the  county  seat,  on  Monday, 
November  first.  My  journal  was  now  in  the  regular  condition 
of  half  the  Rocky  Mountain  papers :  struggle,  debt,  and  litigation 
make  up  their  chronic  condition,  and  failure  their  normal  end. 

But  in  this  case  the  beauties  of  Utah  law  were  to  be  elegantly 
illustrated.  Here  was  a  suit  between  a  Gentile  and  an  "  apostate 
Mormon,"  who  had  to  leave  their  own  town  and  go  before 
a  polygamous  judge,  an  English  Mormon,  living  in  violation 
alike  of  the  laws  of  Congress  and  the  codes  of  Moses  and  Ma- 

183 


184 

hornet.  For  this  Judge — Bishop  Elias  Smith,  of  Boxeldet 
County — is  not  only  the  husband  of  six  wives,  but  two  of  them 
are  his  cousins,  and  two  the  daughters  of  his  own  brother. 
These  facts  are  notorious  in  Utah ;  and  I  am  informed,  though 
of  this  I  am  not  positive,  that  the  girls  were  "  sealed  "  to  their 
uncle  by  Brigham  Young  against  the  protest  of  their  father ! 
From  the  biography  of  this  Judge,  and  a  few  of  his  colleagues 
in  Utah,  the  reader  may  understand  the  late  telegrams  to  the 
effect  that  the  Gentiles  are  looking  anxiously  for  some  action 
by  Congress  which  shall  lessen  the  power  of  these  Probate 
or  County  Judges,  and  bring  all  important  cases  before  the 
U.  S.  District  Judges. 

A  few  weeks  before,  I  had  published  a  severe  criticism  of 
this  Judge  Smith.  His  "strikers"  now  had  me  at  Court  as 
defendant,  in  a  town  of  twelve  hundred  Mormons,  and  only 
half  a  dozen  Gentiles  with  me.  The  facts  brought  out  on  trial 
were  so  clearly  in  my  favor  that  I  gained  the  suit.  About 
sundown  I  started  with  the  crowd  to  pass  out  of  the  Court 
House,  and  was  just  stepping  off  the  portico  when  I  heard 
the  words,  "You're  the  man  that  wrote  that  lie  about  my 
father,"  and  at  the  same  instant  received  a  violent  blow  on 
the  back  of  the  neck  and  head,  which  sent  me  upon  my  face  on 
the  gravel  walk.  I  remember  nothing  more  than  a  succession 
of  blows  followed  by  the  trampling  of  heavy  boots,  and  next  I 
was  being  raised  by  my  friends,  covered  with  blood,  and  only 
not  quite  senseless.  I  was  hauled  seven  miles  to  Corinne, 
where  a  medical  examination  showed  that  my  collar-bone  was 
broken  in  two  places,  my  temple  badly  cut,  and  right  eye 
injured,  a  section  of  my  scalp  torn  off,  and  a  few  internal  in- 
juries received. 

Then  took  place  what  has  always  appeared  to  me  a  miracle 
of  surgery,  or  of  the  healing  force  of  nature.  Dr.  J.  W.  Graham 
dressed  my  wounds,  set  my  fractures,  and  placed  me  flat  on  my 
back  in  bed,  with  instructions  that  I  must  "lie  just  so  for  three 
weeks."  But  the  second  day  thereafter  I  grew  so  nervous  that 
he  decided  the  confinement  so  long  would  kill  me,  and  invented 
a  new  process.  Assisted  by  Dr.  O.  D.  Cass,  who  ceased  for 


A     HEALING    AIK. 


185 


THE  'AUTHOR   RECEIVES  MORMON   HOSPITALITY. 

the  time  to  speculate  on  the  "certain  future  greatness  of  Co- 
rinne,"  he  constructed  a  perfect  strait-jacket,  in  which  I  was 
encased  ;  both  arms  were  stuck  tight  to  my  body  with  adhe- 
sive strips,  my  right  arm  below  the  elbow  only  being  free,  and 
in  that  stringent  condition  I  walked  about  Corinne  for  four 
weeks.  With  all  these  wounds  I  was  in  bed  two  nights  and  a 
day;  in  ten  days  my  head  showed  only  a  deep  and  permanent 
white  scar,  and  in  five  weeks  I  was  able  to  travel.  I  had 
heard  much  of  the  rapidity  with  which  wounds  heal  in  the 
elevated  regions  of  the  Far  West,  but  my  case  seemed  most 
extraordinary. 

But  notwithstanding  my  good  luck,  I  have  no  desire  to  try  it 
again,  though  repeatedly  assured  by  the  dignitaries  at  Brig- 
ham  that  mine  was  an  unusual  case. 


186  MORMON   JUSTICE. 

It  turned  out  that  ray  principal  assailant  was  the  son  of 
Judge  Smith.  He  was  arrested  by  the  city  authorities  (Mor- 
mon), taken  before  the  mayor,  and  fined  five  dollars  !  It  is  well 
known  in  such  cases  in  Utah,  that  the  fine  is  very  seldom  paid. 
Two  years  afterwards  a  Gentile  lawyer  of  Salt  Lake,  W.  R. 
Keithley,  having  been  abused  in  the  Ogden  Junction,  a  Mor- 
mon journal,  attacked  the  editor  and  struck  him  two  blows 
with  a  cane,  doing  no  particular  damage.  He  was  promptly 
arrested,  taken  before  Justice  Clinton,  fined  one  hundred  dol- 
lars, and  put  under  bonds  of  four  hundred  to  keep  the  peace. 
That  is  about  the  percentage  of  difference  between  justice  to  the 
Gentile  and  the  Saint  in  Utah.  But  let  us  be  candid  on  this 
subject.  It  is  nothing  more  than  we  ought  reasonably  to  ex- 
pect, when  a  whole  community  are  of  one  religious  faith,  and 
that  of  a  debasing  kind,  bound  together  by  the  strongest  ties, 
with  unanimous  vote  and  nearly  absolute  political  power;  and 
if  seventy-five  thousand  Scotch  Covenanters,  Primitive  Metho- 
dists, or  any  sect  of  foreigners  or  people  not  generally  educated 
in  liberal  politics,  had  complete  possession  of  any  Territory,  I 
suspect  they  would  make  it  uncommonly  lively  for  dissenters. 
Indeed,  it  is  evident  in  the  West  that  a  single  town  occupied 
entirely  or  generally  by  people  of  one  sect,  *  rapidly  tends  to 
grow  intolerant  and  absurdly  exclusive. 

Some  think,  or  profess  to  think,  that  all  religious  sects  should 
become  one.  I  hope  it  will  not  be  in  my  time.  For  I  am  con- 
vinced that,  in  the  present  imperfect  condition  of  man,  a  multi- 
plicity of  sects,  each  much  weaker  than  all  the  others  combined, 
and  compelled  by  common  weakness  to  mutual  tolerance,  is  our 
best  security  for  civil  liberty ;  and  the  day  that  sees  a  hint  at 
any  form  of  religion  inserted  in  the  Constitution,  marks  the 
beginning  of  liberty's  decline.  New  sects  always  preach  the 
New  Testament  till  they  get  into  power,  then  jump  it  and  go 
back  to  the  Old  Testament  for  precedents.  So  the  Mormons, 
who  first  preached  a  mixture  of  Campbell's  doctrines  and 
Primitive  Methodism,  now  rarely  quote  Christ  and  the  Apos- 
tles ;  their  trusted  exemplars  are  the  patriarch  who  married  his 
half  sister,  and  took  a  "dark  Egyptian"  for  his  concubine,  the 


ANCIENT   PRECEDENTS.  187 


ORSON   HYDE,  PRESIDENT  OF   THE  TWELVE  APOSTLES. 

warrior  who  hewed  captive  kings  in  pieces,  the  missionaries 
who  exterminated  the  Canaanites,  the  priest  who  slaughtered 
idolaters,  and  the  prophet  who  hewed  up  Agag,  varied  by 
occasional  exhortations  on  the  piety  of  that  woman  who  cut  off 
Holofernes'  head,  or  that  other  who  with  a  tent  nail  did  tho 
business  for  Sisera, 

The  critical  may  insist  that  this  is  a  long  sermon  on  a  short 
text,  but  as  I  never  got  satisfaction  for  my  pounding  in  Utah, 
I  now  purpose  to  take  it  out  of  the  suffering  public.  I  have 
often  observed  in  the  West  the  curious  fact  that  those  sects  which 
need  toleration  the  most,  are  least  willing  to  extend  it.  When 
the  Mormons  were  a  suffering  minority,  their  Plea  for  Tolera- 
tion would  have  made  Locke  and  Milton  turn  in  their  graves 
for  envy,  or  weep  with  sorrow  that  they  died  two  hundred  years 
ago;  but  when  they  obtained  the  rule  of  a  whole  Territory, 
they  suddenly  became  convinced  of  the  necessity  of  "  putting 
down  the  enemies  of  God,  that  the  sinners  in  Zion  might  be 
afraid."  A  worried  dog  turning  on  his  tormentors,  a  mad  bull 


188 


I   TUKN    AUTHOR. 


charging  his  enemies,  or  fierce  watch-dogs  tearing  in  pieces  the 
wolves  which  come  near  the  fold,  were  the  models  they  proposed 
for  themselves  in  sermons  still  extant.  Twenty  years  of  such 
power  made  it  seem  to  them  indeed  "  the  rule  of  God's  priest- 
hood," and  to  dissent  was  rebellion  against  heaven,  worthy  of  the 
fate  of  Korah,  Dathan,  and  Abiram.  No  wonder,  I  say,  that 
they  felt  impelled  to  sacrifice  the  first  of  us  who  attacked  their 
system.  The  only  wonder  is,  that  some,  who  call  themselves 
statesmen,  should  want  to  revive  a  fanatic  power  by  giving 
the  Mormons  a  State  government.  Such  should  read  a  few 

of  Apostle  Orson 
Hyde's  sermons,  as 
published  in  the 
Mormon  "  Journal 
of  Discourses." 

I  was  once  more 
fit  for  business.  But 
my  investments  in 
Corinne  had  proved 
failures.  The  town 
had  gone  down  and 
the  paper  with  it. 
The  lawsuit  de- 
stroyed half  the 
value  that  remained; 

I  sold  out  for  a  pittance,  and  every  dollar  of  it  was  required 
to  pay  for  bone-setting  and  expenses  of  convalescence.  Fifteen 
months  had  passed  since  I  entered  Utah,  and  I  was  poorer 
than  ever — "down  to  bed-rock  and  couldn't  show  color." 
Disconsolately  I  sauntered  down  the  street  till  I  met  ray  friend 
Spicer,  to  whom  my  despondency  found  utterance:  "Judge, 
what  the  mischief  shall  I  do?"  Promptly,  and  with  the  con- 
viction of  inspiration,  came  the  answer  :  "  Write  a  history  of 
the  Mormons ;  you  are  the  only  Gentile  who  can  do  it."  Now 
this  had  suggested  itself  to  my  own  mind,  and  but  one  encour- 
aging voice  was  needed.  I  went  resolutely  to  work,  and  in  ten 
weeks  had  the  history  completed. 


DOMESTIC ATKD   PIUTE. 


CORINNE. 


189 


About  that  time,  fortunate- 
ly, the  Mormons  began  to  at- 
tract public  attention,  and  I 
soon  found  a  publisher.  I  was 
despondent  till  the  last,  for  it 
seemed  to  me  no  good  could 
come  out  of  Utah  ;  but,  to  my 
surprise,  the  book  rose  with  a 
bound  to  the  hight  of  popular 
favor,  and  I  soon  felt  the  ex- 
quisite joys  of  authorship — • 
handling  the  dividends.  With 
these  came  a  sense  of  power, 
renewed  confidence,  and  a  long- 
ing to  get  back  to  Utah,  and 
engage  once  more  in  the  old 
contests.  So  I  returned  to 
Corinne  in  April,  1870. 

Things  had  changed,  and 
were  changing  faster.  The 
mining  era  had  just  begun,  and 
the  Gentile  interest  was  in- 
creasing. The  merchants  who 
had  fled  before  the  face  of 
Brigham,  began  to  return,  and 
it  was  estimated  that  the  non- 
Mormon  population  had  dou- 
bled in  a  few  months.  The 
Liberal  Party  had  been  form- 
ally organized ;  Congress  had 
shown  a  disposition  to  attend  to 
the  wants  of  the  Territory, 
better  officials  had  been  ap- 
pointed, and  the  star  of  the 
Gentiles  was  once  more  in  the 
ascendant. 

Corinne  again  had  hopes,  for 


190  SENT   TO   WASHINGTON. 

the  hard  year  of  1869  was  succeeded  by  better  times  in  Idaho 
and  Montana.  There  never  was  so  dull  a  period  in  the  moun- 
tains as  the  eight  months  following  the  laying  of  the  last  rail. 
Men  had  to  get  down  from  mountain  prices  to  railroad  prices, 
and  the  general  disappointment  made  business  men  sick  and 
hopeless.  It  is  a  well-ascertained  fact  that  the  Far  West  lost 
both  population  and  capital  the  year  the  railroad  was  completed, 
instead  of  gaining  either.  (Everywhere  west  of  Omaha  the 
railroad  means,  of  course,  the  Pacific  Railroad.) 

In  1870  there  was  six  times  as  much  freight  shipped  from 
Corinne  to  Montana  and  Idaho  as  in  1869.  Everybody  thought 
that  the  next  year  would  be  "  even  as  this,  and  much  more 
abundant,"  and  speculation  was  more  lively  than  ever.  Corinne 
organized  a  company  to  irrigate  a  hundred  thousand  acres  of 
land  in  Bear  River  Valley  by  one  main  canal,  to  be  taken  out 
from  the  rapids  at  the  last  cafion  ;  and  the  writer  was  sent  to 
Washington  to  get  the  company  incorporated,  and  secure  a  small 
grant  of  the  land  to  aid  in  the  work.  As  we  only  asked  two 
sections  per  mile,  and  of  land  which  the  Government  would  not 
sell  in  a  thousand  years  without  the  canal,  it  scarcely  entered 
our  heads  to  doubt  immediate  success.  It  was  then  I  learned 
the  miseries  of  a  lobbyist. 

Said  my  constituents  to  me  thus  confidently  :  "  All  those  men 
want  is  just  to  understand  the  necessity  and  reason  of  this  thing. 
You  understand  the  mode  of  farming  in  this  country.  Now, 
just  go  down  there  and  explain  it  to  'em,  and  she'll  go  through 
in  a  week.  W^hy,  the  modesty  of  the  request  will  insure  its 
success.  And  tell  'em  we  intend  to  get  in  here  a  Gentile  colony 
of  a  few  thousands,  and  you've  got  Jem." 

I  did  not  find  modesty  at  such  a  remarkable  premium  in 
Washington.  I  might,  with  much  better  success,  have  asked 
for  ten  thousand  sections  than  the  sixty  I  did  ask  for.  I  found 
there  about  five  thousand  other  fellows  with  "modest  requests," 
and  as  it  was  my  first  visit  to  Washington,  I  was  but  poorly 
"  heeled  "  for  the  work.  I  soon  found,  too,  that  a  man  from 
the  Territories  is  of  very  little  consequence;  he  has  no  vote  for 
Congressman  or  Governor,  and  none  for  a  man  who  has  a  vote 


MY    LITTLE    BILL.  191 

for  Senator,  and  consequently  the  political  strings  he  can  pull 
are  decidedly  limited.  I  found  that,  first  of  all,  my  bill  must 
be  approved  in  committee — the  Committee  of  Public  Lands — 
then  it  must  be  approved  by  the  "  committee  of  the  other 
House  ;"  then  it  must  be  introduced,  then  referred,  then  ordered 
printed,  then  passed  to  a  third  reading,  and  at  the  end  of  all 
this  labor,  it  would  be  "on  the  calendar  to  take  its  chances,"  and 
the  real  work  would  begin.  Then  some  member  must  call  it 
up,  with  unanimous  consent,  and  if  nothing  else  was  pressing, 
and  nobody  "  objected,"  it  would  come  to  a  vote. 

With  a  recklessness  born  of  western  life  I  addressed  myself 
to  the  task  of  persuading  each  individual  member  of  both 
Houses.  Obviously  there  was  no  money  in  the  scheme ;  so  the 
newspapers  couldn't  call  it  a  "job,"  and  my  arguments  were  at 
least  received  without  suspicion.  After  one  month's  exhausting 
labor  I  got  a  hearing  before  the  Senate  Committee  on  Public 
Lands ;  at  the  end  of  another  month  my  bill  was  introduced  by 
Senator  Williams  of  Oregon,  read  by  title,  and  ordered  printed. 
Then  said  the  Senator,  "  Go  home,  and  wait  till  after  the  elec- 
tions; members  then  will  not  be  so  afraid  of  a  little  land  grant." 

I  returned  in  December.  The  elections  had  weakened  the 
Republican  party,  and  land  grants  were  thought  to  be  among 
the  chief  causes.  Everybody  began  to  "  hedge  "  at  once,  and 
talk  against  all  grants  big  or  little ;  the  tide  had  turned  and  was 
setting  the  other  way  too  strong  to  be  resisted,  and,  as  on  the 
previous  flood  many  unworthy  schemes  had  gone  through  with 
the  worthy,  so  on  the  present  ebb,  many  really  worthy  ones  were 
defeated. 

For  months  I  danced  attendance  on  the  committees ;  waited 
and  sought  interviews  with  members,  and  cooled  my  heels  in 
the  ante-chambers  of  official  greatness.  After  two  trips  to 
Washington  and  five  months'  work,  I  had  got  the  bill  "on  the 
calendar,"  and  now  it  only  wanted  a  champion  to  call  it  up. 
Senator  Warner,  of  Alabama,  whether  from  intelligent  interest 
in  the  scheme,  or  to  get  rid  of  my  importunities,  I  know  not, 
twice  tried  to  bring  it  forward  :  both  times,  I,  from  the  gallery, 
heard  the  ominous  "  I  object."  Surely  lobbyists  are  a  need- 


NO    PLACE    FOR    ME. 


"THE  SENATOR  is  EXGAGED,  SAIL" 

lessly  abused  class  ;  if  their  experience  is  like  mine  they  earn 
all  they  get.  No  man  accustomed  only  to  associate  with  equals, 
is  fit  for  a  lobbyist.  No  man  from  a  Territory  can  work  long 
for  any  measure  before  Congress,  and  retain  his  self-respect. 
To  wait  an  hour  in  an  ante-chamber,  then  to  hand  your  card  to  a 
negro,  and  be  told  "  the  Senator  is  engaged,  Sah,"  and  wait  another 
hour,  then  enter  the  awful  presence  and  ask  a  favor  which  you 
cannot  repay  with  a  vote,  is  poison  to  the  soul  of  a  mountaineer. 

Who  would  condescend  to  dance  attendance  on  men,  whom  he 
must  secretly  despise,  when  the  best  land  in  the  West  costs  next 
to  nothing,  and  grubbing  hoes  but  two  dollars  apiece? 

But  there  came  a  day  especially  appropriated  to  the  Com- 
mittee on  Public  Lands.  One  after  another  they  called  up  and 
passed  the  bills  they  had  reported  favorably,  until  but  two  more 


FATE   OF   A   LOBBYIST.  193 

remained  before  they  reached  ours;  and  from  the  gallery  I  list- 
ened eagerly  and  watched  the  clock,  which  marked  only  forty 
minutes  to  "adjournment/' 

The  Colorado  Eailvvay  Bill  was  called  ;  one  clause  was  "  ob- 
jected to  ; "  a  debate  followed  and  the  Senate  adjourned,  when 
ten  minutes  more  would  have  sufficed  for  us,  and  I  walked  out 
feeling,  like  the  cynical  politician,  that  republican  government 
was  a  failure,  and  I  should  like  to  plant  a  ton  of  powder  under 
the  rotunda,  blow  the  Capitol  to  atoms,  and  pound  the  head  of 
the  Goddess  of  Liberty. 

So  Corinne  did  not  get  her  canal.  But  the  next  Congress 
she  started  the  matter  again,  and  having  the  friendship  of  six 
[Senators  instead  of  one,  at  the  end  of  the  long  session,  they  had 
the  bill  once  more  "  on  the  calendar,"  just  where  I  left  it. 

Early  in  the  session  of  1825,  a  young  man  from  the  interior 
of  New  Jersey  rode  up  in  front  of  a  hotel,  long  since  destroyed, 
a  few  rods  east  of  the  Capitol,  and  hitched  his  horse.  Being 
told  he  had  better  have  the  animal  put  up,  he  replied,  "No,  it 
aint  worth  while,  I  have  a  little  claim  on  the  Government;  it's 
all  correct,  and  there's  no  doubt  about  my  papers,  so  it'll  take 
but  an  hour  or  two."  Annoyed  by  the  quizzical  smile  of  the 
landlord,  he  swore  he  would  not  leave  Washington  or  unhitch 
his  horse  till  that  claim  was  allowed  and  ordered  paid.  In  an 
obscure  boarding  house  in  Georgetown  may  now  be  seen  a  ven- 
erable gray  headed  man.  The  excavations  two  years  since  for 
the  new  block  on  A  street,  brought  to  light  the  crumbling  skel- 
eton of  a  horse  and  fragments  of  iron  stirrups.  They  told  the 
tale  of  a  lobbyist — and  his  horse.  I  sought  him  out,  and  as  I 
extended  my  hand  in  sympathy,  a  smile  of  hope  illuminated  the 
withered  features,  and  he  informed  me  he  had  secured  the  friend- 
ship of  the  Senators  from  Kansas  and  Nevada,  and  was  confident 
his  claim  would  go  through  next  session.  He  would  then  bid 
Washington  a  tearful  adieu,  and  return  to  spend  a  green  old  age 
in  Jersey.  Young  men  of  America,  let  this  case  point  an  awful 
moral ;  and  keep  away  from  Washington. 

From  my  first  trip  to  the  Capital,  I  returned  to  find   Utah 
hot  with  the  excitement  of  a  political  campaign,  which  resulted 
13 


194  EXPERIENCED   POLYGAMISTS. 

in  giving  Gen.  Geo.  R.  Maxwell,  the  Liberal  candidate  for  Con- 
gress,  some  two  thousand  votes.  For  the  rest  of  the  season  I 
alternately  traveled  in  the  newly-opened  mines  of  Utah,  of 
which  journeys  the  results  appear  elsewhere,  and  edited  the 
Oorinne  Reporter.  We  had  one  rare  episode  that  summer — the 
debate  on  Bible  polygamy  between  Rev.  J.  P.  Newman  and 
Apostle  Orson  Pratt.  It  turned  entirely  on  the  Old  Testament, 
and  always  appeared  to  me  like  a  huge  burlesque.  Why  not 
argue  the  morality  and  expediency  of  circumcision,  slaughtering 
the  heathen,  or  any  other  of  the  forty  things  done  by  the  ancient 
Jews?  If  a  man  once  admits  that  that  people  were  for  our  ex- 
ample, he  involves  himself  in  a  tangle  from  which  no  logic  can 
extricate  him. 

There  are  some  things  that  a  civilized  man  ought  to  know  by 
nature;  if  he  does  not  know  them,  no  argument  you  can  use 
will  ever  reach  down  to  him.  He  ought  to  know  that  the  free, 
honestly  sought  love  of  one  good  woman  is  a  thousand  times 
more  valuable  than  the  constrained  embraces  of  fifty  ;  and  if  he 
does  not  know  it,  why  waste  time  in  arguments  which  he  cannot 
understand  ?  Solomon,  after  possessing  for  many  years  a  thou- 
sand women,  thus  gives  in  his  experience :  "  One  man  among 
a  thousand  have  I  found,  but  a  woman  among  all  these  have  I 
not  found.  .  .  .  And  I  find  more  bitter  than  death  the  woman 
whose  heart  is  snares  and  nets.  .  .  .  Live  joyfully  with  the 
wife  whom  thou  lovest  all  the  days  of  thy  life,  of  thy  vanity 
given  thee  under  the  sun." — Ecclesiastes. 

And  Brigham  Young,  with  two  houses  full  of  women,  says  in 
one  of  his  sermons,  "If  polygamy  is  any  harder  on  them  (the 
women)  than  it  is  on  the  men,  God  help  them." 

The  general  summary  to  my  mind  is,  that  the  polygamist  is 
truly  to  be  pitied,  having  robbed  himself  of  a  pure  pleasure  to 
wallow  in  sensuality.  But  long  after  polygamy  shall  have  died 
out,  or  been  abolished,  the  other  evils  of  Morrnonisin  will  affect 
society  in  Utah. 

The  great  evil  which  is  long  to  trouble  Utah,  is  the  terrible 
effect  the  past  has  had  upon  the  young,  the  legitimate  result  of 
Mormon  Jesuitism.  Beyond  all  question  it  has  been  an  estab- 


NATURALIZATION.  195 


BRIGHAM  YOUNG'S  RESIDENCES,  SALT  LAKE  CITY. 

lished  tenet  of  Mormonism  that,  where  the  interests  of  the 
Church  were  concerned,  it  was  perfectly  right  to  deceive  the 
Gentile.  Take  naturalization  for  instance.  Many  Mormons 
came  up  at  the  terms  of  the  United  States  District  Court  in 
1870  and  '71,  and  solemnly  swore  that  they  were  not  polyga- 
naists,  and  did  not  intend  to  become  such,  forswearing  a  prime 
principle  of  their  faith,  and  undoubtedly  committing  moral  per- 
jury, in  order  to  become  voters.  They  openly  justify  this,  and 
here  is  their  mode  of  reasoning :  "  If  a  man  seeks  my  life,  I  am 
right  to  use  any  means  otherwise  unlawful  to  defend  it.  The 
game  is  true  of  attacks  upon  my  liberty  or  personal  rights ;  that 
which  would  otherwise  be  wrong  becomes  right  in  self-defence. 
The  Federal  judges  have  set  up  an  unjust  rule  to  take  away  my 
rights  as  a  citizen,  and  I  am  justified  in  any  means  to  defeat 
their  aim.  The  judge  has  no  right  to  ask  such  a  question  of 
the  Saints."  Twenty  years'  prevalence  of  such  principles  must 
weaken  the  moral  perceptions,  and  soon  affect  others  who  come 
to  live  among  them.  Some  Jews  and  Gentiles,  too,  often  think 
it  necessary  to  descend  to  the  same  low  level  and  fight  with  the 
same  weapons ;  for,  if  they  do  not,  they  are  at  a  disadvantage. 

Hence  society  in  general  becomes  demoralized.    The  material 
future  of  Utah  is  bright ;  of  her  moral  and  social  future  I  have 


196  RELIGIOUS   LYING   IN  UTAH. 

serious  doubts.  She  seems  destined  to  universal  infidelity. 
Mormonism  dies  away ;  no  other  faith  takes  its  place ;  the  young 
Saints  as  soon  as  they  grow  up  divide  into  two  bodies — Spirit- 
ualists and  infidels —  and  the  Territory  bids  fair  to  become  the 
common  hunting  ground  of  every  ism  suggested  by  a  heterodox 
and  fertile  fancy.  Let  what  may  happen,  the  residence  of  the 
Mormons  will  have  left  in  the  country  a  general  uncertainty  of 
ideas  and  a  laxity  of  moral  principle  which  will  not  be  effaced 
in  less  than  a  generation ;  perhaps  not  even  then,  or  until  they 
learn  by  dire  experience  that  the  way  of  the  transgressor  is 
hard.  Religious  lying  seems  to  have  been  reduced  to  a  science, 
and  religious  lying  is  the  worst  of  all  lying.  Thus  it  stands  in 
Utah :  the  Jews  lie  for  gain,  the  Gentiles  from  association,  and 
the  Mormons  for  Christ's  sake. 


CHAPTER    XII. 


I  START  AGAIN. 

Another  misfortune  and  change  of  scene— Kansas  City— Lawrence— Early 
tragedies— Later  horrors— Last  great  success— Southward— Ottawa— "  Don't 
mention  it,  Deacon" — Franklin  County — Anderson — Ozark  Ridge — Allen 
County — lola — Western  enterprise — Montgomery  County — Beautiful  Mounds 
—Cherry vale— Northward— A  modern  Methuselah— Troy— Ready  to  report. 


HAVE  to  request  that  the  courteous  reader  will  make  a 
big  jump,  from  the  conclusion  of  the  last  chapter — of 
eight  months  in  time,  and  out  of  Utah  into  Kansas. 

As  previously  stated,  I  went  to  Washington  in  De- 
cember, 1870,  and  remained  three  months,  as  agent  of 
the  Bear  River  Canal  Company.  I  returned  to  Corinne  with  a 
painful  disease  of  the  eyes,  which  I  thought  not  serious  enough 
to  prevent  a  trip  to  the  mines  of  Little  Cotton  wood.  From 
that  journey  I  returned  to  Salt  Lake  City  with  both  eyes  swollen 
almost  out  of  my  head,  and  for  six  weeks  lay  on  my  back  in  a 
darkened  room,  fighting  off  blindness.  Through  the  combined 
skill  of  Doctors  Fowler  and  Vollum  of  that  place,  I  recovered 
sufficiently  to  reach  Cincinnati,  and  was  put  under  the  treatment 
of  the  renowned  oculist,  Professor  E.  Williams.  Having 
learned  a  little  wisdom  by  severe  experience,  I  did  not  start 
again  till  he  gave  me  leave,  which  he  did  on  the  1st  of  July, 
1871. 

This  time  I  thought  I  would  see  something  of  the  Missouri 
Valley,  and  on  the  6th  of  that  month  left  St.  Louis  in  company 
with  a  journalist  companion,  by  the  Missouri  Pacific.  Indiana 
and  Illinois  were,  when  I  left  them,  in  the  eighteenth  month  of 
an  almost  continuous  drought;  but  across  the  Mississippi,  the 

197 


198  ANOTHER   OMAHA. 

evidences  of  rain  and  greater  fertility  increased  as  we  moved 
westward.  At  Kansas  City  the  Missouri  Pacific  ceases,  and 
the  Kansas  Pacific  begins,  though  the  track  is  continuous  ;  and 
we  halted  for  a  day's  rest.  If  Shadrach  &  Co.  rested  in  Neb's 
furnace,  then  we  rested  at  Kansas  City.  The  heat  was  simply 
fearful,  beyond  all  scope  of  dictionary  terms.  I  don't  wonder 
the  ancient  Persians  worshipped  the  sun :  it  was  worth  while, 
if  one  could  thus  soften  his  rays,  and  it  almost  seems  to  me  that 
the  moderns  will  return  to  that  belief.  Certainly,  if  I  ever 
turn  heathen,  I  will  become  a  Luminarian. 

Kansas  City  is  a  second  Omaha,  lifted  up  and  moved  two 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  south,  and  set  down  on  eleven  hills, 
from  fifty  to  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  high,  and  with  bluffs 
cast,  north,  and  west.  It  is  the  place  where  people  come  to 
scatter  out — the  starting  point  and  toll-house  to  Kansas,  New 
Mexico  and  the  Indian  Territory,  as  Omaha  is  to  the  Northwest. 
Thus  set  upon  a  hill,  with  real  estate  on  the  edge,  it  logically 
follows  that  there  is  twice  as  much  profit  in  lands;  so,  at  least, 
the  people  reason,  judging  from  the  price  of  lots.  Still,  real 
estate  men  assured  us  there  was  yet  a  chance  for  moneyed  men, 
and  a  few  choice  lots  can  even  now  be  had  for  cash  almost  as 
cheap  as  in  Cincinnati.  The  people  of  Kansas  City  all  looked, 
to  my  eye,  as  if  they  were  expecting  something  to  turn  up. 
They  are  nearer  heaven  locally  than  morally,  for  the  social 
and  unsocial  evils  equally  abound.  But  they  are  a  little  ahead 
of  Omaha  in  hotels.  They  are  satisfied  to  "  size  your  pile  "  and 
take  quarter  of  it.  while  farther  north  the  aim  is  to  take  half  or 
two- thirds. 

That  night  we  ran  out  to  Lawrence,  the  Athens  of  the  West, 
a  town  of  romantic  history,  delightful  to  dwell  in,  of  which, 
though  so  often  described,  many  good,  and  some  new,  things 
might  be  said.  Its  history  is  the  leading  romance  of  Kansas. 

In  the  summer  of  1849,  a  party  of  gold  hunters  from  "away 
down  East,"  borne  along  with  the  flow  of  that  year  to  Califor- 
nia, encamped  for  a  night  near  the  junction  of  the  Kaw  and 
Wakarusa.  where  the  level  prairie  of  the  low  valley  begins  to 
give  way  to  higher  ridges  and  rolling  plains.  Intelligent  men 


A   HISTORIC  CITY.  199 

and  lovers  of  the  beautiful,  they  were  enchanted  with  the  pros- 
pect, and  their  leader  vowed  that  if  California  gave  him  a 
fortune,  he  would  some  day  make  this  spot  his  home.  He  re- 
turned to  Massachusetts  in  1853,  interested  his  friends  in  Boston, 
and  by  the  time  Kansas  was  open  to  the  whites  by  law,  the  place 
was  already  marked  as  the  destined  location  of  a  Massachusetts 
colony. 

The  Kansas-Nebraska  Act  became  a  law  early  in  1854,  open- 
ing this  section  to  settlement,  and  to  slavery, 

"The  direful  spring 

Of  woes  unnumbered." 

The  North,  beaten  in  Congress,  transferred  the  conflict  to  this 
soil,  and  by  the  time  the  Act  received  the  signature  of  Pierce, 
Boston  was  organizing  Emigrant  Aid  Societies,  and  in  the  first 
formed  were  several  of  our  California  emigrants.  Early  in  '54, 
Mr.  C.  H.  Branscomb,  of  Boston,  was  sent  here,  reported  favor- 
ably upon  this  site,  and  erected  the  first  "  habitable  dwelling." 
The  first  party,  of  thirty  persons,  arrived  in  August,  followed 
by  two  other  parties  late  in  the  fall ;  a  town  was  laid  out,  called 
after  Amos  Lawrence,  and  by  winter  contained  a  population  of 
200.  Log,  "shake,"  pole  and  sod  houses  then  constituted 
Lawrence,  a  lone  settlement  of  "  Free  State  Men,"  forty  miles 
from  the  slave  border — a  star  of  hope  and  advancing  freedom. 
The  "Pioneer  House"  was  "all  roof  and  gable,"  consisting  of 
long  poles  joined  at  the  top  like  rafters,  with  the  other  ends  on 
the  ground,  covered  with  sod,  a  sort  of  improved  wigwam.  It 
gave  way  next  spring  to  the  Free  State  Hotel,  burned  by  Sheriff 
Jones  ;  on  the  same  spot  was  erected  the  Eldridge  House,  num- 
ber one,  destroyed  by  Quantrel ;  then  came  the  Eldridge  House, 
number  two,  from  the  upper  windows  of  which  we  look  down 
upon  the  crossing  of  Massachusetts  and  Ohio  streets,  on  a  scene 
of  busy  commerce,  in  the  business  center  of  a  city  of  twelve 
thousand  people. 

We  are  on  historic  ground  here.  Lawrence  has  an  ancient,  a 
modern,  and  a  mediaeval  period.  Yes,  I  may  add,  a  mythical 
and  heroic  age.  The  city  suffered  four  regular  invasions  from 
Missouri  in  its  first  three  years.  March  30,  1855,  the  "border 


200 


BORDER   WARS. 


FIRST  HOTEL  IN  LAWRENCE. 

ruffians  "  came  and  made  a  population  of  nine  hundred  and 
sixty-two  appear  to  cast  a  vote  of  one  thousand  and  thirty-four. 
This  is  better  than  even  the  Mormons  can  now  do ;  their  vote 
seldom  runs  over  a  third  of  the  whole  population.  In  Novem- 
ber, 1855,  occurred  the  "  Wakarusa  War,"  in  consequence  of 
the  Free  State  men  refusing  to  recognize  the  justices  elected  by 
the  "  border  ruffians ;  "  the  city  was  regularly  invested,  and 
Barber  and  others  killed.  May  21,  1856,  Sheriff  Jones  " exe- 
cuted the  writ "  of  Judge  Lecompte,  burned  the  Free  State 
Hotel  and  pillaged  the  town.  In  August,  1856,  some  twenty- 
eight  hundred  "  border  ruffians"  invested  the  place,  but  failed 
to  attack,  as  it  had  grown  too  strong  to  be  captured  without  a 
fight. 

Better  times  soon  followed.  The  Free  State  men  got  control 
of  Kansas ;  the  Legislature  refused  to  consider  Lecompton  the 
Capital,  and  met  regularly  at  Lawrence,  which  was  virtually 
the  Capital  for  three  years.  The  "depression"  of  1857  fol- 


201 

lowed,  and  Lawrence  declined  for  two  years.  There  were  fewer 
people  here  in  1860  than  in  1857.  But  the  country  adjacent 
was  rapidly  developing;  people  ceased  to  look  for  the  "spring 
emigration''  as  their  only  chance  to  make  money,  and  a  more 
legitimate  and  healthy  growth  began.  Early  in  1863  the  State 
University  was  located  here,  and  the  Kaw  was  bridged,  both 
adding  greatly  to  the  prospects  of  the  town,  which  had  a  popu- 
lation of  nearly  three  thousand  in  August,  1863.  Then  came 
the  List,  most  cruel  blow. 

Occasional  rumors  of  invasion  from  Missouri  had  agitated 
the  city,  but  all  had  ceased,  and  Lawrence  never  felt  more 
secure  than  on  the  evening  of  August  20,  1863.  Even  the 
little  guard  of  Federal  troops  had  been  ordered  away  by  the 
District  Commander  at  Kansas  City.  At  2  P.M.  of  the  20th, 
Quantrel  assembled  his  band  in  Missouri ;  between  5  and 
6  P.M.  they  crossed  the  border,  and  made  directly  for  Law- 
rence, sending  out  scouts  to  guard  all  the  roads  and  turn  back 
all  who  might  carry  information.  At  the  first  glimmer  of  day 
they  were  seen  passing  through  Franklin,  a  few  miles  south- 
east ;  at  sunrise  they  were  here.  They  sent  a  squad  to  Uni- 
versity Hill,  west  of  the  city,  to  guard  against  surprise  from 
that  direction,  and  parties  of  two  or  three  each  took  position  at 
the  principal  points  in  the  city,  so  quietly  that  those  who  saw 
them  had  not  a  suspicion  of  their  designs.  Then,  just  as  most 
of  the  citizens  were  rising  from  their  beds,  the  main  body 
dashed  into  the  town  yelling  like  savages,  and  began  the  work 
of  destruction. 

In  two  hours  seventy-five  business  houses  on  Massachusetts 
Street,  and  all  the  central  part  of  the  city,  were  in  flames,  and 
one  hundred  and  twenty-five  citizens  lay  dead  among  the  ruins 
or  upon  the  streets.  Many  were  horribly  mutilated.  At  one 
house  two  men  were  killed,  and  in  the  presence  of  their  shriek- 
ing wives  their  heads  were  cut  off  and  stuck  upon  the  gate. 
Those  who  died  of  their  wounds  brought  the  number  of  slain 
up  to  a  hundred  and  forty-three.  The  brutality  of  the  gue- 
rillas was  only  equaled  by  their  cowardice.  When  resistance 
was  made  from  any  stone  building  they  at  once  retreated,  and 
many  were  thus  saved. 


202  "TWIN  RELICS." 

All  this  is  old,  says  the  critic.  Yes,  it  is  ten  years  past,  and  we 
hear  much  of  the  political  duty  of  forgetting.  But  it  is  well  to 
refresh  the  public  memory  sometimes,  that  the  younger  class  of 
Americans  may  not  entirely  forget  just  what  it  costs  to  tolerate 
a  relic  of  barbarism  in  a  Republic,  or  give  power  to  its  sup- 
porters. Slavery  raised  up  a  set  of  men  capable  of  this  trans- 
action, as  polygamy  made  a  community  capable  of  the  Moun- 
tain Meadow  massacre.  "When  the  politics  or  religion  of  a 
people  teach  them  to  disregard  the  rights  and  happiness  of  one 
class,  they  will  soon  come  to  look  upon  all  the  "outside  and 
Gentile  world"  as  lawful  prey.  One  of  the  "twin  relics"  is 
extirpated  from  American  soil;  the  other  now  knocks  at  the 
door  of  Congress,  and  asks  only  the  political  power  of  a  State. 
The  noted  camel  of  classic  fable  only  asked  that  he  might  put 
his  head  in  at  the  door;  the  result  was  that  those  who  did  not 
like  that  camel's  society  might  vacate  the  premises. 

Lawrence  survived — a  martyr  city  in  the  cause  of  freedom. 
When  I  first  visited  the  place,  in  the  autumn  of  1867,  there  were 
still  traces  of  Quantrel's  raid.  The  city  appears  to  me  to  have 
nearly  doubled  in  size  since  that  visit,  and  present  improvements 
indicate  that  she  is  still  growing  r&pidly.  She  has  the  trade  of 
an  agricultural  population  of  thirty  thousand,  and  a  growing 
importance  as  the  junction  of  the  Leavenworth,  Lawrence  and 
Galveston  Railroad  with  the  Kansas  Pacific.  The  new  State 
University  is  completed,  and  ranks  among  the  very  best  in  the 
"West.  Lawrence  is  the  intellectual  center  of  the  Missouri  Val- 
ley, probably  the  only  city  in  the  Far  West  that  can  boast  an 
average  intelligence  and  education  equal  to  any  in  New  Eng- 
land. Ten  churches  indicate  that  the  religious  element  is  pow- 
erful. Two  daily,  two  semi-weekly,  and  four  weekly  papers, 
well  supported,  indicate  that  there  is  a  reading  population  here 
and  hereabout.  Lawrence  is  one  of  the  very  few  places  I  see 
in  my  western  wanderings  at  which  I  always  want  to  stop  and 
take  up  my  residence.  It  is  to  be  the  Athens  of  the  West. 

Thence  we  took  the  Leavenworth,  Lawrence  and  Galveston 
Railroad,  now  completed  to  Parker,  on  the  line  of  the  Indian 
Territory.  The  main  offices  are  at  Lawrence,  but  it  is  said  the 


NEW   EAILROADS.  203 

real  terminus  is  at  Kansas  City,  from  which  there  is  a  branch 
connecting  with  this  at  Ottawa,  thirty  miles  south  of  Lawrence, 
on  the  Marais  des  Cygnes,  in  Franklin  County.  The  history 
of  these  roads  is  a  little  curious.  "  Joy's  road,57  as  it  was,  now 
known  as  the  Missouri  River,  Fort  Scott  and  Gulf  Railroad,  runs 
nearly  straight  south  through  the  eastern  tier  of  counties,  in  a 
few  places  within  five  miles  of  the  Missouri  line,  and  is  popularly 
known  here  as  the  "  border  tier  road.7'  It  passes  through  Fort 
Scott  to  Baxter  Springs,  the  present  terminus.  When  the  same 
parties  obtained  control  of  the  Leavenworth,  Lawrence  and 
Galveston  road,  the  terminus  of  which  was  then  but  a  little 
south  of  Lawrence,  the  Kansas  Pacific  charged  them  such  ruin- 
ous rates  for  transporting  their  iron  over  the  little  distance  to 
Lawrence,  that  they  found  it  cheaper  to  send  it  north  to  Leaven- 
worth,  and  ship  the  remaining  distance  over  their  own  road. 
A  further  calculation,  however,  showed  it  would  be  cheaper  to 
build  a  line  of  connection  from  Kansas  City,  which  was  done  in 
a  few  weeks,  and  the  Ottawa  branch  is  the  result. 

By  the  charters,  the  road  which  first  reached  the  Indian  Ter- 
ritory would  be  the  only  one  entitled  to  pass  through  it,  and 
Joy  was  first  in  the  race  until  he  reached  the  noted  "Joy  Pur- 
chase," when  hostilities  so  hindered  his  progress  that  he  aban- 
doned that  scheme  and  bought  a  controlling  interest  in  the 
Leavenworth,  Lawrence  and  Galveston.  Lately,  however,  he 
has  retired  from  this  road. 

At  noon  of  a  scorching  day  we  moved  out  of  Lawrence 
and  through  a  beautiful  grove  of  elm,  black  walnut,  ash,  and 
hackberry,  southward  into  the  valley  of  the  Wakarusa.  The 
rich  dark  green  of  grass  and  corn,  the  entire  absence  of  dust,  and 
the  water  standing  in  the  furrows,  indicated  that  this  had  been 
the  rainiest  season  Kansas  ever  knew;  all  this  was  confirmed  by 
the  local  testimony.  Have  Kansas  and  the  Wabash  Valley  traded 
climates  for  the  time?  It  seems  so.  The  bottom-lands  of  this 
valley  are  mostly  in  corn,  the  slopes  in  wheat  and  corn,  while 
for  miles  away  extend  beautiful  rolling  lands,  covered  with 
rich  prairie  grasses,  and  a  variety  of  plants,  the  whole  present- 
ing a  strange  mingling  of  the  feature  of  Northern  and  Southern 


204  SHARP   TRADERS. 

farms,  corresponding  to  the  peculiar  mild  climate  which  charac- 
terizes this  section. 

Being  in  the  "agricultural  report"  line,  we  made  a  short 
stop  at  Ottawa,  one  of  the  "  magic  cities"  of  Kansas.  Located 
in  1864,  it  now  has  a  population  of  nearly  four  thousand,  has  two 
railroads  and  two  more  in  course  of  construction.  We  found 
the  citizens  a  decidedly  lively  people,  but  slightly  prone  to  large 
talking— poloquence,  I  might  call  it.  To  them  might  appro- 
priately be  applied  a  bon  mot  of  Sidney  Smith's.  Said  a  friend 
to  him,  speaking  of  a  mutual  acquaintance:  "Thomson  is  a 
good  fellow,  a  real  entertaining  fellow,  but  you  must  believe 
only  half  he  says."  "  Certainly,"  was  the  reply,  "  but  which 
half?"  It  is  easier  to  tell  which  half  to  believe  at  Ottawa. 
But  if  you  locate  there,  stay  long  enough  to  get  acquainted 
before  you  go  into  trade. 

In  the  early  days  a  popular  clergyman  of  that  city  sold  a 
"  blooded  mare,"  as  he  averred,  to  one  of  his  deacons.  Shortly 
after  the  deacon  observed  some  motions  in  his  new  property  he 
did  not  like,  and  sought  the  minister's  study  with,  "  Brother  K., 
the  mare  I  got  of  you  is  very  stiff  in  the  shoulders."  Drawing 
a  fine  Partaga  from  between  his  lips,  the  reverend  coolly  re- 
plied:  "Better  not  tell  that,  deacon ;  it  might  injure  the  sale 
of  her."  New  light  broke  in  on  the  deacon.  He  "  farewelled" 
and  took  his  leave.  The  minister,  however,  had  a  weakness 
for  "  blooded  sheep,"  and  a  prominent  banker,  afterward  Lieu- 
tenant-Governor  of  Kansas,  took  advantage  of  it,  and  sold  him 
two  fine-looking  rams,  of  common  stock,  at  $150  each.  He  was 
to  be  paid  in  town  lots,  at  a  value  appraised  by  two  prominent 
citizens.  They  learned  of  the  "blooded  sheep"  trick,  and  rated 
the  lots  at  five  times  their  actual  value,  adding  at  the  bottom 
of  the  appraisement  this  item  :  "Fees,  $10."  The  banker  ran 
down  the  list  to  the  "fees,"  and  tapping  it  significantly,  re- 
marked :  "  That  is  the  only  reasonable  thing  on  this  paper. 
That  charge  I  will  pay.  As  for  the  rest,  the  preachers  got  his 
rams,  and  may  go  to with  them." 

South  of  the  Marais  des  Cygnes,  or  "  Swan  Marsh,"  we  run 
for  ten  miles  on  the  Ozark  Ridge,  so  called  by  the  settlers, 


RIDGE   LANDS. 

itnnwifflllllllll 


205 


"  DON'T  MENTION  IT,  DEACON. 


who  tell  us  it  is  a  spur  from  the  Ozark  Mountains.  In  all  the 
cuts  I  observe  the  rock  just  below  the  surface — not  in  ledges  or 
boulders,  but  in  successive  layers  of  thin  and  narrow  stones,  not 
so  compact  but  that  the  plow  could  be  forced  through  them. 
"Buffalo  stamps/7  are  tracts  of  hard  blue  soil,  supposed  to  be 
due,  originally,  to  the  presence  of  alkali  and  saline  properties  in 
the  ground,  causing  numbers  of  buffalo  to  crowd  together,  lick- 
ing and  stamping  the  life  out  of  the  soil.  It  is  a  curious  fact 
that  our  domestic  cattle,  imported  to  Kansas,  no  matter  how 
well  supplied  with  salt,  soon  acquire  the  same  habit,  not  licking 
the  soil,  but  crowding  and  stamping  upon  the  same  spots.  In 
such  places  the  grass  is  very  short,  wiry  and  thick,  looking  like 
green  hair,  if  such  a  comparison  be  at  all  allowable.  Some 
people  here  say  that  it  is  really  the  best  of  land,  and  that  after 
being  broken  up  and  sown  in  wheat  a  few  years,  it  will  become 
extremely  fertile;  but  I  will  wait  awhile  and  see  results  before 
endorsing  that  opinion. 


206  SOUTHERN    KANSAS. 

The  Marais  des  Cygnes  River  is  bordered  most  of  its  course 
by  considerable  forests  of  good  timber.  Franklin  probably 
contains  the  least  proportion  of  waste  land  of  any  county  in 
southern  Kansas.  With  an  area  of  572  square  miles,  it  has  a 
population  (1870)  of  only  12,000;  this  in  a  country  where  every 
eighty-acre  lot  will  support  a  family  in  affluence,  with  a  com- 
mercial population  half  as  large  as  the  agricultural,  and  with  no 
more  manufacturing  than  is  incident  to  a  farming  community. 
It  is  evident,  then,  that  there  is  room  in  Franklin  for  ten  thou- 
sand more.  But  already  considerable  tracts  of  the  best  land  are 
in  the  hands  of  non-residents,  who  hold  them  a  little  too  high 
to  encourage  rapid  settlement.  This  railroad  has  no  large 
amount  of  land  in  Franklin — at  least  nothing  like  as  large  as 
in  the  counties  south.  The  Leaven  worth,  Lawrence  and  Gal- 
veston  seems  to  be  more  fortunate  in  its  land  grant  than  either 
of  the  other  Kansas  roads.  The  Fort  Scott  road  obtained  its 
grant  along  the  border  which  had  been  settled  many  years,  the 
Kansas  Pacific  strikes  directly  west  towards  the  "  American 
Desert,"  and  the  Missouri,  Kansas  and  Texas  tends  in  the  same 
direction.  The  L.  L.  and  G.  ran  through  four  of  the  richest 
counties  in  Kansas,  while  they  were  comparatively  unsettled, 
in  the  best  position  for  timber  and  far  enough  removed  from  the 
arid  plains.  The  grant  was  made  and  the  railroad  sections 
allotted  in  1863  and  1864,  and  the  road  mostly  constructed  in 
1870  and  1871 ;  but  meantime  the  even  sections  were  open  to 
settlement  and  rapidly  taken  in  expectation  of  the  road.  Hence 
the  railroad  lands  are  intermingled  with  old  settlements  and 
well-improved  farms,  and  convenient  to  schools,  churches,  and 
all  the  advantages  of  society. 

From  the  ridge,  and  the  fact  that  the  railroad  owns  so  much 
land  there,  it  has  resulted  that  Anderson  County,  next  south  of 
Franklin,  is  not  nearly  so  well  settled  as  the  country  north  and 
south  of  it.  For  ten  miles  here  we  did  not  see  a  house  or  a  rod 
of  plowed  land.  Passing  Divide,  a  station  on  the  ridge  separa- 
ting the  waters  which  flow  northeast  into  the  Marais  des  Cygnes, 
from  those  flowing  south  into  the  Neosho,  we  run  down  into 
Allen  County,  the  great  agricultural  center  and  leading  county 


ENTERPRISING  IOLA.  207 

of  southern  Kansas.  This  county  is  much  better  settled.  Every 
man  owns  the  land  upon  which  he  lives,  and  society  has  made 
astonishing  progress  for  so  new  a  country. 

Ten  days  we  wandered  about  Allen  County,  taking  note  of 
local  manners,  the  price  of  lands  and  leading  productions.  lola, 
the  county  seat,  so  named  from  Mrs.  Tola  Colbourne,  wife  of  an 
old  settler,  is  another  of  the  "  magic  cities  "  of  Kansas.  It  was  a 
village  before  the  war,  and  went  down,  with  all  southern  Kan- 
sas, in  that  period,  but  with  the  great  "rush"  of  1867-68  it 
took  a  start,  which  is  a  surprise  even  in  this  country  of  preco- 
cious cities.  Stone  blocks  went  up  which  would  look  well  in 
Cincinnati.  A  stone  bank  building  graces  the  square  equal  to 
any  west  of  the  Mississippi ;  the  pavement  in  front  of  it  cost  two 
hundred  dollars ;  mammoth  glass,  which  cost  in  Chicago  seven 
hundred  dollars  per  pane,  show  the  interior  glories  of  the  prin- 
cipal store,  and  generally  improvements  are  conducted  with  an 
audacity  astonishing  even  to  the  West.  While  lola  was  yet 
weak,  the  "King's  Iron  Bridge  Manufacturing  Company"  were 
hunting  a  location  for  the  western  branch  of  their  establishment. 
They  tried  Topeka,  but  Topeka  was  a  little  slow  in  accepting 
their  terms.  Mr.  King  visited  lola,  and  proposed  to  locate  the 
works  there  for  a  given  space  of  ground  and  fifty  thousand  dol- 
lars in  money.  A  meeting  was  called  at  once,  the  money  was 
pledged  that  night,  and  the  contract  signed  before  he  left  town. 
A  few  days  after,  Topeka  was  ready  to  accept,  but  work  was 
already  begun  at  lola.  Bonds  were  issued  by  the  city,  at  a  high 
rate  of  interest,  secured  by  individuals,  and  it  was  stipulated  in 
the  contract  that  the  works  should  employ  at  least  three  hun- 
dred men.  The  buildings  were  just  finished,  and  work  com- 
menced in  one  wing,  and  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  first 
bridge  put  together. 

All  this  was  accomplished  by  a  "city  "then  of  eight  hundred 
inhabitants.  I  am  astonished  at  the  boldness  of  these  new  coun- 
ties in  the  line  of  public  works ;  they  cheerfully  enter  upon  out- 
lays which  would  frighten  the  oldest  counties  in  Indiana.  Iron 
bridges  span  the  Neosho  at  several  prominent  points — the  best 
at  Neosho  Falls  and  lola — costing  from  twenty  to  forty  thou- 


\ 


[JPP 


208 


SOLID    IMPROVEMENTS.  209 

sand  dollars.  Farmers  readily  vote  to  tax  their  land  two  and  a 
half  per  cent. — sticking  it  to  non-resident  owners  pretty  steep, 
by  the  way — to  pay  for  these  things. 

"  Will  it  pay  ?  "  I  ask  of  them  somewhat  doubtfully,  to  which 
they,  in  substance,  reply :  "  In  the  older  States  we  have  seen 
the  folly  of  cheap  improvements.  Wooden  bridges  have  been 
put  over  the  same  little  stream  every  five  or  ten  years  for  two 
generations.  Here  we  purpose  to  begin  with  stone  and  iron ; 
double  the  cost  at  first,  but  cheaper  in  the  lifetime  of  ourselves 
and  children.  Besides  the  difference  between  these  and  timber 
is  not  as  great  as  in  Indiana." 

There  is  sense  in  this  exhibit.  At  one  place  in  Parke  County, 
Indiana,  I  have,  in  my  short  life,  ridden  over  four  successive 
wooden  bridges,  built  at  a  cost,  probably,  of  twelve  thousand 
dollars  each.  Stone  and  iron  would  have  bridged  the  stream 
for  fifty  thousand  dollars,  and  lasted  five  generations  at 
least. 

Eight  miles  below  lola  is  Humboldt,  the  two  enjoying  a  keen 
rivalry.  Humboldt  is  the  head  of  the  United  States  Land 
District ;  lola  has  obtained  the  county  seat ;  but  Hulmboldt  has 
secured  the  terminus  of  the  branch  road  which  is  to  connect  the 
L.  L.  and  G.  with  the  "  Border-tier  "  road  at  Fort  Scott.  This 
will  give  a  through  line  from  this  section  to  Sedalia,  Missouri. 
But  the  lolians  say  they  will  have  a  Y  put  in  with  the  right 
branch  terminating  at  their  town,  and  offer  to  do  the  grading  if 
the  railroad  company  will  insure  the  rest. 

This  portion  of  Kansas  has  had  two  eras  of  settlement ;  as  a 
historian  I  might  say  a  mythical,  a  heroic  and  a  modern  age. 
It  was  settled  scatteringly  in  '55,  '56  and  '57,  and  by  "  free 
State  men  "  for  the  most  part.  The  "  border  war/'  particularly 
the  horrible  Marais  des  Cygnes  massacre,  and  the  perfidy  of  the 
administration  discouraged  progress.  It  had  barely  recovered 
when  the  notable  "  dry  season  "  of  1860  occurred.  The  bed  of 
the  Neosho  was  dry,  and  regularly  used  as  a  public  road  from 
the  falls  to  Humboldt.  The  settlers  contended  successively 
against  short  crops,  no  crops,  Indian  thieves  and  all  devouring 
grasshoppers.  Whole  families  wintered  on  poor  buffalo  meat, 
14 


210  EARLY   DIFFICULTIES. 

and  dressed  almost  entirely  in  the  skins  and  charity  clothing. 
Some  lived  for  weeks  on  condemned  crackers.  An  old  school- 
mate from  Indiana  lived  seven  months  on  corn  bread  "straight," 
and  thought  himself  in  luck  to  have  it.  Many  lost  their  health, 
and  a  few,  very  few,  died  of  want  and  exposure,  or  the  diseases 
thereby  engendered.  Extreme  want  weakened  the  intellect  or 
distorted  the  moral  perceptions.  The  brain,  lacking  rich,  red 
blood,  distinguished  but  feebly  between  right  and  wrong.  Men 
stole  at  first  from  want ;  afterward,  as  evil  habits  create  perverted 
principles,  from  second  nature,  or  "because  they  had  got  into 
the  habit  and  couldn't  quit."  "  Jay  hawk  ing  "  was  adopted  into 
the  language  as  a  delicate  euphuism  for"  taking  what  you  really 
needed  when  you  couldn't  pay  for  it."  Not  a  few  men  wandered 
off  into  the  Indian  Territory,  became  adventurers,  and  married 
squaws  or  practised  aboriginal  "  free-love ;  "  and  thus  is  growing 
up  a  race  of  half-breeds,  with  all  the  native  cunning  of  the 
mother,  and  the  intellectual  meanness  of  the  superior  white  race. 
Two  fruitful  seasons  followed,  and  society  took  a  second  growth. 
Then  came  the  war  producing  worse  confusion.  Most  of  the 
young  men  entered  the  army,  and  many  families  moved  north- 
ward. Farms  and  new  claims  were  abandoned,  fences  and  even 
houses  were  burned  for  fuel,  and  the  whole  section  went  back 
ten  years.  Half  breeds  stole,  Indians  murdered,  and  Kansians 
retaliated,  and  the  rebels  impartially  plundered  all  three. 

Peace  came  at  last,  and  two  years  after,  the  "big  immigra- 
tion" set  in.  Through  '67,  '68  and  769,  the  whole  country  put 
on  a  new  appearance,  and  the  old  settlers  saw  with  astonishment 
a  new  and  more  enterprising  race  seizing  upon  all  the  fair  unoc- 
cupied spots,  bringing  with  them  all  the  habits  of  an  old  and 
cultivated  society,  and  looked  upon  school-houses,  churches  and 
public  improvements  springing  up  with  the  rapidity  of  magic. 
Society  in  the  settled  portions  of  Woodson,  Neosho  and  Allen 
Counties  will  compare  favorably  with  any  rural  district  in  Ohio. 
There  are  more  educated  men  than  usually  fall  to  the  lot  of  new 
communities.  Music  is  cultivated  to  a  surprising  extent.  Com- 
mon schools  surpass  the  average  of  those  in  Indiana,  and  are 
modeled  upon  the  plan  of  Massachusetts. 


BEAUTIFUL    MOUNDS.  211 

Continuing  our  examination  of  rural  Kansas  by  successive 
stages  southward,  just  below  the  Neosho  we  pass  a  large  extent 
of  unsettled  country.  Part  of  it  is  a  comparatively  barren 
ridge,  separating  the  waters  of  the  Neosho  from  those  flowing 
into  the  Verdigris;  the  remainder  consjsts  of  rich  slopes  and 
the  valley  of  the  latter  river,  nearly  all  railroad  and  school 
land.  This  has  just  been  brought  into  market,  on  easy  terms, 
in  seven  yearly  payments,  and  is  filling  up  rapidly. 

Thence  we  bore  down  into  Montgomery  County,  upon  that 
beautiful  plain,  sloping  gently  towards  the  Verdigris  River,  of 
inexhaustible  richness,  and  dotted  at  regular  intervals  by  those 
cone-shaped  mounds  of  rock  and  gravel,  which  are  the  delight 
of  the  traveler  and  the  despair  of  science.  All  the  central  por- 
tion of  Montgomery  consists  of  rich  prairie  broken  by  these 
mounds.  Some  of  them  are  perfectly  circular,  rising  abruptly 
from  the  plain,  with  a  rocky  wall  of  from  ten  to  thirty  feet  in 
hight,  upon  which  stands  the  cone  of  gravel,  loam  and  clay, 
often  with  a  clump  of  bushes  growing  upon  the  top.  Others 
rise  gradually  in  long  swells,  abrupt  at  one  end,  and  sloping 
gradually  to  the  plain  at  the  other;  and  still  others  are  mole- 
shaped,  of  every  length,  from  fifty  to  ten  thousand  feet,  and 
from  twenty  to  a  hundred  feet  in  hight.  They  were  evidently 
islands  at  the  time  when  this  valley  was  a  lake;  beyond  that 
period  I  do  not  venture  a  supposition.  One  of  them,  north  of 
Independence,  the  county  seat,  overtops  all  the  rest,  and  from, 
its  summit  one  can  obtain  a  magnificent  view  of  all  Montgomery, 
and  much  of  Labette,  Howard,  and  Wilson  Counties.  Neosho, 
to  the  northeast,  is  shut  off  by  the  ridge  separating  the  waters 
of  the  Neosho  from  those  of  the  Verdigris. 

Our  last  stop  was  at  Cherryvale,  then  terminus  of  the  L.  L. 
&  G.,  and  confident  of  future  greatness.  It  was  about  the  size 
of  Cincinnati,  but  only  four  squares  were  built  up  yet;  mostly 
with  frame  tents.  It  was  late  in  July,  and  the  heat  was  most 
intense,  so  we  turned  northward,  thinking  it  best  to  visit  the 
cooler  sections  of  the  Missouri  Valley. 

At  Ottawa  we  took  the  Kansas  City  branch  of  the  Leaven- 
worth,  Lawrence  and  Galveston  Railroad,  traversing  the  beau- 


212 


AN    OJJ)    SETTLER. 


MOUNDS  ON  THE  VERDIGRIS. 

tiful  farming  region  of  Johnson  County.  The  Ottawa  branch 
and  road  from  Lawrence  to  Pleasant  Hill,  on  the  Missouri 
Pacific,  form  an  X  at  Olathe,  county  seat  of  Johnson,  and 
thence  also  the  Missouri,  Fort  Scott  and  Gulf  Road  bears  nearly 
due  south,  through  Fort  Scott  to  Baxter  Springs,  on  the  State 
line. 

Heavy  rains  soon  refreshed  the  soil  of  Kansas,  accompanied 
in  many  places  by  hail,  and  the  intense  heat  gave  place  to  a 
delicious  coolness.  We  found  Kansas  City  about  as  we  left  it, 
but  the  day  of  our  return  was  notable  as  the  last  day  on  earth 
of  the  oldest  man  in  the  West,  if  not  the  oldest  in  America  or 
the  world.  Jacob  Fournais,  or  "Old  Pinaud,"  as  he  was 
generally  known,  was  a  noted  character  on  the  Missouri,  and 
deserves  a  place  in  history.  He  was  born  near  Quebec  in  1742, 


NORTHERN    KANSAS.  213 

and  when  only  seventeen  years  old  was  present  upon  the  field — 
not  as  a  soldier — when  Wolfe  and  Mont-calm  died.  He  was  in 
the  same  neighborhood  when  Montgomery  fell,  in  1775,  but  soon 
after  the  Revolution  went  to  Pittsburgh,  Pennsylvania,  and 
thence  to  New  Orleans.  At  first  it  seems  there  must  be  some 
mistake  in  a  man  claiming  to  be  one  hundred  and  twenty-nine 
years  old,  but  all  the  old  mountaineers,  including  Jim  Bridger, 
Jim  Beckwith,  Bent  and  Goodale,  testify  to  his  having  been 
the  oldest  guide  and  trapper  when  they  were  boys.  The  journal 
of  Lewis  and  Clark  shows  that  he  was  in  their  employ  in  1804 
and  1805,  and.  the  records  of  the  Fur  Company,  and  of  the 
Chouteau  family  prove  that  he  was  in  their  service  for  over 
thirty  years.  He  had  resided  in  Kansas  City  for  twenty-five 
years,  waiting  for  death,  never  having  had  a  day's  sickness  in 
his  life.  He  often  told  with  great  glee  that  when  the  British 
marched  on  New  Orleans,  he  offered  his  services,  but  was  re- 
fused enlistment,  "  because  he  was  too  old."  How  amazing  to 
think  of  a  man  living  among  us  who  in  his  youth  was  doubtless 
familiar  with  many  survivors  of  the  wars  of  William  of 
Orange  and  Queen  Anne,  and  who  was  of  voting  age  before  the 
Revolution !  Two  such  lives  would  carry  us  back  to  Crom- 
well's Protectorate,  and  overlap  each  other  sufficiently  for  the 
story  of  that  time  to  reach  us  at  second  hand.  Perhaps  tradi- 
tion may  be  of  more  worth  than  we  have  thought.  A  hundred 
average  lives  would  reach  back  to  the  conquest  of  Canaan,  and 
the  same  stretch  of  time  would  require  but  forty  lives  of  a 
length  such  as  we  have  in  every  county,  and  leave  a  margin 
for  the  story  to  be  communicated  through  each  successive  link 
of  the  living  chain.  The  evidence  is  conclusive  that  "old 
Pinaud  "  was  nearly  or  quite  as  old  as  he  claimed.  He  re- 
marked in  the  morning,  while  walking  about  the  yard,  that  he 
"  would  never  see  the  sun  go  down  again,"  and  just  before  sun- 
set expired  without  a  struggle  or  sigh,  dying  of  old  age  and 
without  a  sign  of  disease.  Many  of  his  mountaineer  companions 
still  survive,  between  the  ages  of  eighty  and  ninety. 

From   Kansas   City  northward  we  take  the  Missouri  Valley 
Road,  now  owned  and  controlled  by  the  Missouri  Pacific  Com- 


214  AMBITIOUS   TOWNS. 

pany — in  fact  an  extension  of  the  same  road.  Wyandotte,  just 
across  the  Ka\v  into  Kansas,  has,  perhaps,  three  thousand  people, 
and  is  considered  "  merely  a  feeder  of  Kansas  City."  A  short 
distance  above  Wyandotte  I  was  surprised  at  the  sight  of  half-a- 
dozen  large  stone  houses,  on  a  high,  rocky  flat,  with  some  well- 
built  four-story  warehouses,  and  not  a  human  being  in  sight. 
As  the  train  swept  on  it  brought  to  view  more  abandoned 
houses — rather  shells — of  every  size,  and  finally  a  village,  with 
some  signs  of  life,  behind  a  bluff.  All  this,  I  was  informed, 
was  once  the  renowned  Quindaro,  the  great  city  which  was  to 
be,  projected  at  the  same  time  with  Kansas  City  and  Wyandotte, 
and  contesting  with  them  for  the  lead  as  metropolis  of  the 
border.  It  was  laid  out  by  a  town  company  of  ambitious  Kan- 
sians,  and  supported  a  rattling  daily,  known  as  the  Quindaro 
Chindowan.  The  first  is  the  name  of  the  Indian  woman  who 
sold  the  site  to  the  whites,  and  the  latter  means,  in  the  Kaw 
language,  "  a  bundle  of  rods."  Its  bright  pictures  of  the  future 
of  Quindaro  exceed  all  the  specimens  extant  of  Kansas  blowing. 
Here  was  to  be  an  enduring  city,  founded  on  a  rock — a  second 
Babylon,  while  Wyandotte,  on  the  sand,  would  sink  to  nothing- 
ness ;  here  was  to  be  the  entrepot  of  all  trade  from  tflte  plains ; 
here  was  the  natural  point  for  all  trade  and  travel  from  the 
States  to  Kansas  and  the  mountains,  and  here  was  to  be  the  city 
of  the  Missouri  Valley. 

Wyandotte  retorted  in  kind,  and  with  equal  vigor;  but  both 
soon  succumbed  to  Kansas  City,  and  Quindaro  was,  in  the 
classic  language  of  the  "  jayhawkers,"  "too  dead  to  skin."  The 
founders  had  kept  even  by  selling  lots,  but  many  later  settlers 
were  ruined.  The  site  was  entirely  abandoned  for  some  years, 
and  is  now  only  settled  by  a  few  farmers.  All  these  river  towns 
were  first  built  up  by  the  freighting  business  across  the  plains; 
that  past,  they  have  passed,  except  where  railroad  interests 
unite. 

Leavenworth  we  voted  "dull."  Atchison  a  little  more  lively; 
then  took  the  Atchison  and  Nebraska  Railroad  for  the  northern 
border.  At  Troy,  county-seat  of  Doniphan,  the  oldest  county 
in  Kansas,  we  stopped  for  a  day,  finding  a  very  different  country 


READY  TO   LEAVE. 


215 


from  that  we  had  just  left  in  the  south.  All  this  region  is 
rolling  or  hilly,  the  soil  is  of  great  richness,  and  timber  and 
running  water  abundant.  The  junction  of  this  road  with  the  St. 
Joseph  and  Denver  City  Railroad  is  a  mile  southwest  of  Troy, 
giving  the  traveler  the  benefit  of  a  fine  omnibus  ride  up  Almond 
Avenue.  At  the  corner  of  the  avenue  and  Broadway,  I  noticed 
a  splendid  herd  of  native  cattle  grazing,  and  in  this  part  of  the 
city  generally  the  stock  have  kicked  down  the  surveyor's  stakes, 
so  it  is  difficult  to  determine  one's  bearings.  A  magnificent 
field  of  corn  is  included  between  Spruce  and  Elm,  and  extends 
from  Sixth  Street  to  the  edge  of  the  city.  The  city  plat  is  two 
miles  square,  and  the  town  of  Troy,  with  one  thousand  inhabi- 
tants, lies  in  the  northeast  corner  of  the  same.  All  this  part 
of  Kansas  offers  but  little  inducement  to  the  emigrant,  unless  he 
comes  with  money  enough  to  buy  an  improved  farm — from 
$1500  to  $3000  at  least;  and  I  need  only  say  that  the  crops 
here,  as  in  all  Kansas,  exceeded,  for  1871,  anything  in  her 
former  history. 

At  the  end  of  four  weeks  I  was  ready  with  my  report  on 
Agricultural  Kansas,  which,  for  convenience'  sake,  the  reader 
will  find  summarized  in  the  following  chapter. 


SPOUTING  GEYSER. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

STATISTICAL    KANSAS. 

Emgrante,  attention !  — Topography  of  Kansas  —  Climate — Three  divisions- 
Amount  of  good  land — Productiveness — Figures — Fruit — Beautiful  Homes- 
Southern  border — Snakes — Local  flavoring — Bad  case  of  Trichina — The  Kansas 
farmer. 

HIS  chapter  is  exclusively  for  farmers  and  prospective 
emigrants.  "No  others  need  apply."  If  any  one  of 
the  latter  has  been  visited  by  rosy-hued  dreams  of  an 
elysium  to  be  realized  in  Kansas,  where  man  has  but  to 
tickle  the  earth  with  a  hoe,  and  she  would  laugh  with 
a  harvest  of  giant  maize  and  wonderful  wheat ;  where  bovine 
beauties  rolled  helpless  with  fat  in  perennial  pastures,  and  the 
"  honest  farmer"  lived  in  Arcadian  simplicity,  he  had  better 
dream  on  and  not  read.  But,  on  the  contrary,  if  he  has  heard 
only  of  "droughty  Kansas,"  this  chapter  will  do  him  good. 

The  facts  herein  are  collated  from  personal  observations  in 
twelve  counties,  during  three  tours  in  the  State,  from  noting 
the  courses  of  streams  and  comparison  with  similar  Western 
localities;  from  reports  of  friends  in  whom  I  repose  confidence; 
from  official  surveys,  private  letters,  and  other  accredited  sources. 
Statistics  are  barely  allowable  in  a  popular  work,  but  some  use 
of  them  must  be  permitted  in  the  inception  of  such  a  design. 
Kansas  extends  in  latitude  from  the  thirty-seventh  to  the  for- 
tieth degree ;  that  is  to  say,  from  the  latitude  of  Cairo,  Illinois, 
and  Bowling  Green,  Kentucky,  to  that  of  Columbus,  Ohio  ;  and 
in  longitude  from  ninety-four  degrees  and  thirty-eight  minutes 
to  one  hundred  and  two  degrees  west  from  Greenwich :  an  im- 
mense parallelogram,  about  twice  as  long  as  wide,  containing 
81,318  square  miles,  ten  times  the  size  of  Massachusetts,  one- 
216 


EASTERN    BORDER. 


217 


THE  EMIGRANT'S  DREAM  OF   KANSAS. 

fifth  larger  than  Missouri,  little  more  than  twice  the  size  of 
Ohio,  nearly  three  times  that  of  Indiana,  and  exceeding  by  one- 
third  the  surface  of  England. 

All  the  contradictory  reports  of  Kansas  are  true — if  we  apply 
each  statement  to  the  appropriate  section.  There  are  20,000 
square  miles  of  most  fertile  land  ;  as  much  of  good  grazing  coun- 
try, and  more  of  dry  and  scantily  clothed  plains. 

Bear  in  mind  that  the  country  near  the  Missouri  ranges  from 
five  hundred  to  one  thousand  feet  above  sea-level,  while  the 
base  of  the  mountains  at  their  most  eastern  parts  is  from  forty- 
five  hundred  to  five  thousand  feet  in  elevation ;  thus  the  tra- 
veler, start  where  he  may,  must  proceed  along  a  general  up 
grade  from  four  hundred  to  seven  hundred  miles  across  the 
"  plains,"  crossing  the  narrower  part  in  Dakota,  and  the  wider 
part  in  Southern  Kansas. 


218  TOWARDS   THE    PLAINS. 

Kansas  stretches  two-thirds  of  the  distance  westward,  up  this 
incline;  hence,  while  the  eastern  border  is  comparatively  low, 
the  western  part  averages  nearly  four  thousand  feet  in  hight. 
Down  this  long  plane,  more  or  less  regularly,  flow  all  the 
streams  of  Kansas  to  the  eastward;  the  average  moisture  in- 
creasing with  continuous  regularity,  and  with  it  timber  and  the 
productive  fertility  of  the  land,  while  salt,  gravel,  sand,  alkali, 
and  other  characteristics  unfriendly  to  agriculture,  increase  west- 
ward in  an  inverse  proportion.  We  should  thus  naturally  look 
for  the  best  land  along  the  eastern  border ;  but,  practically  little 
difference  is  observable  until  we  reach  the  third  tier  of  counties; 
and  at  a  distance  of  from  one  hundred  to  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  out  the  rich  prairie  of  the  border  begins  to  yield  rapidly 
to  ridges  scantily  clothed  with  grass  and  the  half-desert  of  the 
plains.  Of  course  there  is  no  fixed  line  or  point  at  which  we 
can  say  agricultural  land  ceases,  and  that  fit  only  for  pasture 
begins ;  wide  and  fertile  valleys  extend  far  beyond  the  as- 
sumed border;  far  reaching  fertile  slopes  extend  miles  along 
all  the  larger  streams,  while  occasional  depressions  present  thou- 
sands of  acres  of  rich  natural  meadow,  or  perhaps  an  entire 
township  of  first-class  arable  land.  Such  exceptions  are  found 
in  the  south  far  up  the  Wichita,  Verdigris,  and  Arkansas;  in 
the  center  upon  the  Kaw,  Smoky  Hill  and  Saline;  and  further 
north  upon  the  Big  and  Little  Blue,  Republican  and  Solomon 
Rivers  even  as  far  as  the  border  of  Colorado.  While  this  is 
true,  each  successive  section  of  twenty-five  miles  westward 
would  show  an  average  decrease  of  fertility.  In  Colorado  the 
only  tillable  lands  consist  of  the  low  valleys  and  slopes  along 
the  streams,  lying  in  a  condition  to  be  irrigated  ;  and  yet  not  all 
the  lands  of  a  nature  to  be  reclaimed  by  irrigation  can  be  so 
economically  treated  because  of  the  absence  of  a  water  supply. 

Thus  it  will  be  seen  Kansas  is  naturally  divisible  into  three 
sections:  rich  agricultural  land,  half  agricultural  and  half  graz- 
ing, and  half  grazing,  half  desert.  The  first-class  farming 
land  may  then  safely  be  set  down  as  one  hundred  miles  east 
and  west,  and  the  width  of  the  State,  two  hundred  and  ten 
miles,  from  north  to  south :  twenty-one  thousand  square  miles 


y 


219 


220  WHERE    TO    GO. 

of  unsurpassed  fertility,  an  area  sufficient  for  the  homes  of  an 
agricultural  population  of  two  million  one  hundred  thousand, 
without  being  more?  thickly  settled  than  rural  New  York.  But 
it  will  sustain  a  more  dense  population  than  that  State ;  the 
uniform  richness  of  the  soil,  and  the  vicinity  of  such  vast  graz- 
ing lands,  will  cause  the  fertile  land  to  be  more  closely  culti- 
vated with  profit. 

The  western  third  of  the  State  is  still  the  range  of  the  buffalo, 
and  three  days'  travel  with  teams  will  take  sportsmen  from  the 
terminus  of  the  L.  L.  &  G.  Road  to  the  hunting  grounds. 
There  the  Kioways  and  Osages  still  hunt  them  in  the  primitive 
style,  but  with  the  improvements  in  firearms,  hunting  by  the 
whites  is  reduced  to  a  science  and  a  minimum  of  risk. 

The  accounts  given  by  my  friends  of  their  hunting  exploits 
were  of  the  most  romantic  character,  until  they  came  to  describe 
their  mode  of  cooking  with  "  Buffalo  chips ; "  then  I  begged  to 
be  excused.  The  reader  is  referred  to  the  cut  for  a  fuller  ex- 
planation. 

To  return  to  agriculture.  Where  shall  the  immigrant  from 
the  Middle  States  or  the  central  West  go?  At  present,  I  should 
say,  to  one  of  the  counties  south  of  the  Kaw;  good  land  there  is 
still  to  be  had  at  prices  not  unreasonable.  In  Anderson,  Allen 
and  Montgomery — in  the  second  tier  of  counties — there  are  still 
thousands  of  acres  of  the  very  best  land  at  moderate  rates.  In 
the  third  tier  we  find  Shawnee,  Weller  and  Woodson  Counties 
still  almost  unsettled,  with  some  Government  land  and  much 
private  land  for  sale  at  three  to  five  dollars  per  acre.  Two- 
thirds  of  the  surface  of  these  counties  is  of  extreme  fertility. 
But  the  immigrant  there  has  a  still  wider  range.  Far  out  upon 
the  Verdigris  or  Wichita,  and  even  upon  the  Arkansas,  one- 
third  or  one-half  of  the  country  consists  of  fertile  valley  and 
slope,  bounded  by  high  pasture  lands.  Here  the  settler  can 
still  find  public  land  in  abundance,  and  take  a  homestead  in  the 
assured  hope  that  a  few  years  will  surround  him  with  all  the 
society  and  resulting  comforts  he  now  finds  on  the  Eastern  bor- 
der. There  are,  however,  considerable  tracts  of  waste  land  be- 
tween these  fertile  strips — lands  which  will  not  be  settled  or 


222  KANSAS    CHARACTER. 

improved  for  a  hundred  years  ;  but  to  my  mind  this  is  rather  an 
advantage  to  the  settled  portions. 

It  is  unquestionable  that  in  the  Verdigris  and  Wichita  region 
the  valley  land  is  very  rich,  though  those  ridges  fit  only  for  pastur- 
age take  up  half  or  more  of  the  country.  If  I  have  a  good  farm  in 
a  well-settled  township,  what  should  I  care  if  that  be  bordered 
by  three  other  townships  of  ridges?  The  good  land  will  be 
only  the  more  thickly  settled,  with  the  waste  land  for  public 
pasturage  and  for  the  ledges  of  rock,  which  go  a  long  way 
toward  supplying  the  lack  of  timber.  And  that  region  is  settling 
fast.  At  least  60,000  people  entered  Kansas  in  1870,  and  the 
first  half  of  1871 — their  own  statisticians  put  it  at  100,000 — of 
whom  two-thirds  or  more  went  into  that  section.  The  State, 
admitted  in  1860  with  107,000,  now  (1870)  has  360,000  inhab- 
itants. The  rich  valleys  of  the  Neosho,  Verdigris  and  neigh- 
boring streams  are  fast  filling  with  an  energetic  population.  In 
every  direction  the  virgin  sod  is  being  turned,  and  claim  shanties 
and  neat  dwellings  are  springing  up  like  magic.  The  overflow 
of  this  living  stream  is  just  beginning  to  set  toward  the  Wichita 
and  Arkansas. 

Domestic  economy  has  made  more  progress  than  in  most  new 
countries,  and  the  traveler  through  the  settled  portion  of  Kan- 
sas can  secure  most  of  the  comforts  of  life.  The  western  spirit 
of  toleration,  added  to  the  southern  spirit  of  hospitality,  and 
quickened  by  Yankee  enterprise,  forms  the  characteristic  of 
southern  Kansas.  The  immigrant  gets  a  fresh  start  in  character 
and  society  as  well  as  in  property.  Not  "  What  has  he  done 
East?"  but  "  What  does  he  intend  to  do  in  Kansas  and  for 
Kansas  ? "  is  the  question  asked.  They  care  the  least  for  a 
man's  record,  if  he  fails  to  come  up  to  the  spirit  of  the  times  and 
country,  of  any  people  I  have  seen.  If  the  new  comer  has  been 
unfortunate,  or  even  criminal,  and  is  really  desirous  of  taking  a 
new  departure  in  manners  and  morals,  there  he  can  have  a  clean 
sheet  to  begin  his  new  record  upon  ;  if  he  will  start  right  he  will 
never  hear  of  the  past,  and  if  he  is  honest  and  public-spirited  in 
Kansas  the  past  will  remain  as  a  sealed  book.  Deducting  some- 
thing of  western  swagger  and  a  great  deal  of  local  exaggeration, 


BRAGGING.  223 

the  southern  Kansian  is  really  a  first-rate  fellow ;  frank,  gener- 
ous, and  with  ideas  expanded  by  change  and  experience,  he  is  a 
good  fellow  to  travel  with  and  a  desirable  neighbor.  There  the 
immigrant  from  the  Ohio  Valley  will  find  a  climate  to  suit  him  ; 
warm  enough,  the  summers  tempered  by  the  wind,  the  storms 
of  winter  short,  though  sometimes  severe,  and  all  the  fruits  and 
grains  of  the  temperate  zone  yielding  bounteously.  Cotton 
could  be  grown  in  the  extreme  south,  while  the  long-leafed 
Spanish  tobacco  and  the  ordinary  James-River  are  an  undoubted 
success  everywhere  south  of  the  Kaw.  There  are  evils  enough 
everywhere,  but  many,  once  thought  peculiar  to  Kansas,  are 
found  to  exist  there  no  more  than  elsewhere.  Wherever  good 
land  is  found  the  season  will  be  found  to  suit  it.  In  the  eastern 
division  of  the  State  drought  is  not  a  whit  more  to  be  feared, 
one  year  with  another,  than  in  the  Wabash  Valley;  and  when 
you  go  far  enough  west  to  find  "  droughty  Kansas,"  the  land  is 
unfit  for  cultivation  anyhow. 

So  much  for  general  facts  before  I  come  to  details.  But  first 
a  caveat.  If  the  reader,  after  perusing  this,  could  visit  Kansas 
generally,  he  would  be  amazed  to  think  I  had  drawn  it  so 
mildly,  compared  with  the  statements  he  will  receive  from  resi- 
dents. According  to  them  in  most  cases,  there  never  was  so 
rich,  so  great,  so  prosperous  a  region,  never  such  a  chance  to 
make  money  before ;  the  towns  are  all  certain  to  make  great 
cities ;  lots  are  sure  to  double  in  price  in  a  year ;  pure  fat  may 
yet  run  in  the  furrows,  and  corn  tassel  and  silk  in  greenbacks ;  a 
man's  children  will  grow  fat  by  mere  contact  with  the  soil,  and 
his  wife  return  to  the  beauty  of  her  youth  ;  roasted  shoats,  with 
knife  and  fork  stuck  in  their  backs,  will  rub  against  him  and 
beg  to  be  eaten,  and  general  prosperity  awaits  the  happy  emi- 
grant. And  then  it  is  so  healthy.  An  old  resident  of  Deer 
Creek,  we  are  told,  had  lived  so  long,  life  was  a  burden  (to  his 
heirs  probably),  and  yet  the  country  was  so  healthy  he  could  not 
die.  Weary  of  existence  he  moved  back  to  Illinois,  and  there 
succeeded  in  giving  up  the  ghost,  having  stipulated  that  he 
should  be  buried  on  his  Kansas  farm.  But  such  were  the  life- 
giving  properties  of  this  soil  that  when  laid  in  it  animation  re- 


224  DETAIL    OF   CROPS. 

turned  to  his  limbs,  his  heart  resumed  its  pulsations,  and  the 
incorrigible  centenarian  walked  forth  in  renewed  health,  to  the 
disgust  of  his  heirs  and  the  confusion  of  those  who  had  doubts 
about  Kansas.  I  thought  I  knew  something  about  "  blowing 
towns  "  on  the  Union  Pacific,  but  Kansas  boys  can  give  them 
fifty  in  the  game  and  " double  discount"  them.  That  the 
country  has  all  the  elements  of  a  rich  and  prosperous  State,  I 
can  see  with  my  own  eyes ;  that  there  is  still  room  for  thou- 
sands to  do  well  is  equally  plain,  and  that  all  who  will  work 
can  acquire  a  competence,  is  simply  an  axiom.  But  your  average 
Kansian  is  not  satisfied  with  such  a  moderate  statement.  One 
would  think  them  at  first  view  the  happiest  people  in  the  world, 
for  every  man  seems  perfectly  satisfied  with  his  own  claim, 
averring  it  is  the  very  best  in  Kansas.  And  yet,  strangely 
enough,  about  one-third  of  them  want  to  sell;  not  but  that  this 
is  "  God's  own  country/7  oh,  no  !  "  But  with  the  money  they 
could  raise  on  this  claim,  they  could  get  twice  as  much  out  on 
the  Wichita,  and  have  enough  left  to  stock  it  to  their  minds." 

To  avoid  showing  symptoms  of  the  same  disease,  I  present  a 
few  figures  mostly  on  Allen  and  Woodson  Counties,  where  I 
stopped  longest,  and  knew  my  informants  to  be  reliable.  The 
winter  of  1870— '71  was  one  of  unusual  severity  in  Kansas,  and 
owing  to  want  of  preparation  therefor,  nearly  all  the  cattle  began 
the  spring  in  the  last  stage  of  attenuation.  One  terrible  snow 
storm  lasted  an  entire  week,  in  which  the  wind  blew  almost  a 
hurricane,  filling  the  air  with  powdery  snow,  and  quite  a  num- 
ber of  cattle  froze  to  death,  as  well  as  hogs  and  chickens.  The 
winter  of  '69-'70  had  been  of  unusual  mildness,  and  nearly  all 
the  cattle  in  Allen  County  were  wintered  upon  the  lower  range 
and  in  the  wooded  bottoms  without  feeding.  It  is  common  with 
many  farmers  to  pursue  this  plan,  and  depend  upon  the  chances ; 
but  the  stock  are  certain  to  come  out  miserably  poor,  and  the 
chances  are  one  in  three  of  a  hard  winter  in  which  ten  per  cent, 
of  the  stock  will  be  lost.  The  best  farmers  prepare  and  expect 
to  feed  from  three  to  four  months — two  months  less  than  in 
Indiana.  The  spring  of  1871  opened  early  and  dry,  the  rain 
gradually  increasing  with  the  advance  of  the  summer,  and  this 


AGRICULTURE.  225 

has  proved  the  rainiest  season  Kansas  has  ever  enjoyed.  I  say 
"  enjoyed/'  for  it  amounts  almost  to  a  certainty  that  this  section 
will  never  have  too  much  rain,  while  it  may  have  too  little. 
Old  settlers  say  that  "  every  other  season  in  Kansas  is  wet — last 
was  the  season  to  sow  much  small  grain;  this  to  plant  much 
corn."  It  is  impossible  for  corn  anywhere  in  this  latitude  to 
do  better  than  it  did  in  1871  in  Allen  County;  the  crop  was  at 
least  twice  as  good  as  in  any  part  of  Indiana.  That  the  land  is 
never  too  wet,  and  consequently  spring  plowing  can  be  done 
under  the  most  favorable  circumstances,  is  one  reason  why  it 
endures  drought  so  much  better  than  further  east.  Land  which 
is  never  water-soaked  or  broken,  wet  never  clods  or  "  bakes." 
In  1870  the  average  yield  of  corn  in  this  county  was  forty 
bushels  per  acre.  Of  other  crops  there  is  no  report  for  single 
districts,  but  the  State  at  large  produced  (I  quote  the  printed 
report)  as  follows: 

312,000  acres  corn  yielded 15,000,000  bushels. 

117,000  acres  wheat  yielded 2,100,000  bushels. 

91,400  acres  oats  yielded 3,848,000  bushels. 

19,600  acres  potatoes  yielded 2,158,000  bushels.    - 

221,000  acres  hay  yielded 441,000  tons. 

Wheat  has  never  proved  a  perfect  success  in  Allen  County, 
though  several  average  crops  have  been  raised.  The  kinds 
generally  sown  are  called  the  "Walker"  and  "May"  wheat. 
The  t{  Mediterranean  "  and  "White  Bluestem,"  so  common  in 
Indiana,  do  not  yield  well  on  the  rank  soil  of  a  new  country. 
A  curious  fact  is  noted,  that  land  when  first  broken  does  best 
in  wheat,  and  after  being  sown  in  that  crop  for  some  years  will 
produce  far  better  corn  than  when  new.  Hence  "  new  ground  " 
here  is  rarely,  if  ever,  planted  in  corn.  The  peculiar  saline 
properties  of  the  soil  render  new  land  less  fit  for  corn  than  old, 
while  the  same  salts  produce  no  bad  effects  upon  wheat.  The 
fly  is  a  little  troublesome  to  wheat,  but  its  principal  enemy  is 
the  chintz  bug,  so-called  here,  though  I  see  no  resemblance  in 
the  specimens  shown  me  to  our  Eastern  insect  of  that  name. 
It  will  eat  almost  any  crop,  but  prefers  the  small  grains,  having 
shortened  those  crops  in  this  section  about  ten  per  cent. 
15 


226  ROOTS   AND   VINES. 

Rye,  oats  and  barley  do  equally  well,  though  but  little  of  the 
last  has  been  grown,  and  this  section  is  thought  to  be  particu- 
larly favorable  for  oats.  Mr.  A.  Hall,  whose  farm  is  in  the 
valley  at  the  junction  of  Deer  Creek  and  the  Neosho  River,  har- 
vested in  1870  seventy  bushels  per  acre  from  a  large  area;  and 
J.  C.  Clark,  on  the  upland  near  lola,  gathered  four  thousand 
bushels  from  sixty-five  acres,  the  entire  yield  being  sold  readily 
at  fifty  cents  per  bushel.  This  is  the  "  money  crop  "  of  Allen 
County  as,  owing  to  stock  raising  and  the  vicinity  of  the  In- 
dian Territory,  there  is  always  ready  sale  at  good  prices.  Thus 
it  will  be  seen,  two  or  at  most  three  good  crops  will  still  pay  for 
an  average  farm  in  this  section. 

Of  ground  crops  every  kind  known  in  Ohio  flourish  exceed- 
ingly in  this  virgin  soil ;  potatoes  and  turnips  particularly 
excel.  The  former  grow  to  an  immense  size,  and  never  seem 
" watery"  or  otherwise  bad,  while  turnips  do  as  well  as  I  have 
ever  seen  them  in  Minnesota,  which  saying  every  one  who  has 
ever  visited  that  State  will  consider  the  highest  limit  of 
superlative  praise.  Beets  and  pie-plant,  I  suspect,  do  but 
poorly ;  I  hear  but  little  of  them,  and  from  comparison  of  this 
soil  with  that  of  Utah  and  California,  I  think  the  country 
needs  a  few  years'  cultivation  to  make  those  plants  a  success. 
Allen  County  in  1870  raised  an  average  crop  of  potatoes,  but 
in  '71  the  yield  was  immense.  The  Colorado  bug  has  not  put 
in  an  appearance  yet,  but  will  doubtless  be  along  in  due  time,  in 
spite  of  State  rights. 

Of  vines,  every  kind  known  in  Ohio  is  grown ;  but  some 
few  of  them  have  special  enemies,  which  destroy  the  hope  of 
profit.  A  fatality  seems  to  attend  "  Hubbard's  Kershaws" 
and  squashes.  They  are  "  took  by  bugs"  so  regularly  that  it  is 
nearly  impossible  to  raise  any.  Pumpkins  and  other  kindred 
productions  yield  wonderfully,  and  watermelons  far  exceed  any 
in  Indiana. 

A  singular  phenomenon  was  observed  last  year  in  this  sec- 
tion. A  moderate  crop  of  small  but  very  sweet  melons  ripened 
in  July,  about  which  time  a  rainy  period  occurred,  when  a 
second  growth  appeared  and  were  perfectly  ripe  by  the  last  of 


CULTIVATED    FRUITS.  227 

September.  Of  course  they  were  "  out  o'  season,"  and  conse- 
quently inferior  in  flavor ;  still  they  were  good  enough  to  eat, 
and  valuable  as  an  indication  of  what  the  seasons  of  Southern 
Kansas  will  do.  Wild  strawberries  are  found  in  great  abun- 
dance on  the  prairies,  of  several  different  kinds,  as  well  as  of 
different  shapes.  When  cultivated,  the  same  varieties  are  most 
excellent.  A  very  large  smooth  gooseberry  is  found  in  great  quan- 
tity in  the  timber,  which  every  one  here  pronounces  fine ;  but  as 
all  gooseberries  are  slow  poison  to  me,  I  can  only  say  they  look 
well.  Many  kinds  of  wild  grapes  are  found,  the  "big  blue" 
predominating.  Of  cultivated  grapes  the  "Concord,"  " Hart- 
ford Prolific,"  and  "  Diana"  are  the  only  kinds  I  have  met 
with,  the  first  being  by  far  the  best  for  this  section.  The  rank 
soil  of  a  new  country  is  not  generally  thought  favorable  to  cul- 
tivated grapes,  but  so  far  they  have  done  quite  well.  I  have 
heard  of  no  wine  being  manufactured;  and  rather  suspect  it 
would  appear  too  mild  a  drink  or  too  small  a  business  for  the 
thoroughbred  Kansian,  whose  very  life  seems  to  depend  on 
doing  or  appearing  to  do  everything  on  a  grand  scale.  On 
general  principles,  the  people  of  all  new  countries  will  raise 
corn  and  cattle  rather  than  wine  and  seeds.  The  country  dis- 
tricts contain  more  tee-totallers  than  I  would  have  expected. 
Allen  County  is  more  temperate  than  the  average  in  Indiana. 
In  the  towns  the  standard  drink  is  whisky — "stone  fence," 
"forty-rod,"  and  "tarantula-juice."  Indeed,  whisky  and  bravery 
are  thought  to  be  necessary  for  each  other ;  "  whisky  is  the  only 
drink  for  men,"  and  whoever  drinks  at  all  drinks  whisky.  So 
your  true  Kansian  says  with  the  Scotch  Poet : 

"  Let  half-starved  slaves  in  warmer  skies 
See  future  vines  rich  clustering  rise, 
Their  lot  fair  Kansas  ne'er  envies, 

But  blithe  and  frisky 
She  eyes  her  freeborn  martial  boys 

Take  off  their  whisky." 

Of  wild  fruits,  plums,  grapes,  and  gooseberries  most  abound. 
There  are  but  few  wild  blackberries,  but  the  cultivated  Lawton 
does  well,  better  than  in  Indiana,  from  the  fact  that  it  never 


228  PEACHES. 

freezes  out  here.  The  country  is  too  new  to  form  a  certain  judg- 
ment on  domestic  fruits.  Half  a  dozen  orchards  on  Deer  Creek 
are  doing  well,  and  the  indications  are  good  for  apples.  It  is 
already  proved  that  peaches  can  be  grown  with  great  success. 
The  oldest  settlers  are  enthusiastic  upon  this  point,  and  Mr.  E. 
R.  Lynn,  a  Presbyterian  minister,  who  has  resided  on  Deer 
Creek  for  eleven  years,  tells  me  his  experience  goes  to  show 
that  peaches  will  be  grown  nine  years  out  of  every  ten.  The 
only  specific  enemy  of  that  tree  is  the  "  grub,"  so  called  here, 
an  insect  of  the  terebrce  species,  which  works  on  the  roots  just 
below  the  surface.  Growers  must  dig  and  examine  the  roots 
of  peach  trees  every  spring,  when  the  presence  of  the  "bore" 
can  easily  be  detected.  The  roots  must  then  be  treated  with 
ashes  and  lime,  the  latter  being  almost  as  plenty  here  as  clay  in 
Ohio.  This  process  is  quite  effective  in  destroying  the  pests. 
Mr.  Lynn  says  peaches  have  failed  entirely  but  one  year  since 
he  came  here.  They  need  a  northern  exposure  and  high 
ground ;  on  the  southward  slopes  the  buds  come  forward  too 
early,  and  for  some  unexplained  reason,  the  trees  fail  to  do  well 
on  the  low  grounds  along  the  creeks,  notwithstanding  such  are 
the  naturally  timbered  sections,  where  one  would  at  first  expect 
fruit  trees  to  thrive  best.  The  orchard  of  D.  E^  Rhodes  in 
lola,  is  the  best  in  Southern  Kansas.  In  1870  he  made  his 
first  sales — a  hundred  bushels  of  apples  at  one  dollar  per  bushel. 
I  see  no  reason,  either  in  climate,  soil,  or  formation,  why  this 
should  not  be  a  first-rate  fruit  country,  and  yet  many  doubts 
are  expressed  upon  the  subject.  Over  in  Missouri,  where 
Kansas  people  have  been  buying  fruit  for  many  years,  the 
farmers  are  setting  out  immense  orchards  in  the  assured  hope 
that  they  will  supply  Kansas  for  the  next  forty  years,  and  that 
the  demand  will  increase  with  the  population.  My  own  opinion 
is  that  they  will  aslip  up  on  it." 

The  residents  in  new  countries  are  generally  grasping  for 
land,  but  in  Allen  County  they  prefer  cattle.  After  getting 
their  land  paid  for — a  homestead  merely — they  generally  put 
every  spare  dollar  in  cattle ;  for  they  reason,  "  the  land  may 
double  your  money  in  ten  years  or  less,  but  with  any  kind  of 


THE   CATTLE   BUSINESS.  229 

care,  cattle  are  certain  to  double  it  in  two  or  three  years.  Messrs. 
Funkhouser  &  Longshore,  of  Carlyle,  bought  a  drove  of  Texas 
cattle  in  November,  1869,  and  sold  them  in  August,  1870,  for  ex- 
actly double  the  purchase  money.  Deducting  all  cost  of  winter- 
ing, and  herding,  they  realized  sixty  per  cent,  on  their  investment. 
It  is  quite  common  to  purchase  in  Missouri  one  spring  and  sell  the 
second  autumn  thereafter  at  twice  the  amount — thus  realizing 
from  fifty  to  eighty  per  cent,  profit  in  twenty  months.  There  is 
still  so  much  range  in  Allen  County,  and  owing  to  the  Ozark 
Ridge  and  other  ridges,  will  be  so  for  many  years,  that  this  is 
the  great  money-making  business.  Farmers  gadly  borrow  money 
at  ten  per  cent.,  secured  by  mortgage,  to  invest  in  cattle,  with 
the  assurance  of  making  at  least  thirty  per  cent,  upon  their 
investment.  Of  course  this  kind  of  business  will  not  last 
always,  but  while  it  does  last,  for  the  next  few  years,  is  the 
time  to  immigrate  here.  There  is  still  abundant  room  for 
farmers  and  stockhandlers.  If  people  would  work  here  as  they 
do  in  Ohio,  every  farmer  would  be  rich  in  five  years. 

But  people  in  new  countries  are  lazy.  The  first  settlers  seem 
to  get  it  naturally,  and  newcomers  soon  fall  into  their  ways  and 
catch  the  same  disease.  I  thought  people  on  the  Wabash  were 
lazy.  They  are  fearful  bundles  of  steaming  energy  compared 
to  the  Kansians.  Allen  County  is  settled  by  a  superior  class, 
but  I  perceive  they  are  fast  falling  into  the  old  ways.  A  man 
can  live  in  a  log  cabin,  wear  ragged  clothes,  and  go  bare-footed 
and  still  be  an  aristocrat ;  so  what  is  the  use  of  working  to  se- 
cure a  social  position.  People  seldom  work  for  what  they  have 
already,  except  where  long  habit  has  made  it  almost  a  necessity. 
For  mechanical  labor  of  nearly  every  kind  there  is  a  steady 
demand,  at  prices  considerably  in  advance  of  those  paid  in  Ohio. 
For  stone-masons  and  house-carpenters  the  demand  is  greatest 
and  the  wages  best.  Much  good  land  is  still  to  be  had  from 
private  owners  at  from  four  to  ten  dollars  per  acre,  unimproved. 
If  one  can  raise  the  money  it  is  fully  as  cheap,  if  not  cheaper, 
to  buy  an  improved  as  a  new  farm  ;  for  there  are  always 
plenty  wanting  to  sell.  There  are  always  some  dissatisfied, 
always  many  wanting  to  change  their  location,  and  the  nearer 


230  THE   SOUTHERN   COUNTIES. 

the  border  you  get,  the  more  you  will  find  who  want  to  sell  out 
and  move  West.  Already  there  is  a  considerable  movement 
from  this  section  to  the  Verdigris,  a  hundred  miles  west,  and 
many  pioneers  are  starting  for  the  Wichita,  twice  as  far  off. 
Beautiful  and  fertile,  but  narrow  valleys,  with  four  times  as 
much  half-barren,  rolling  pastures,  as  it  is  so  far  west,  suits  the 
true  borderer  far  better  than  this  section,  which  is  three-fourths 
fertile  and  one-fourth  barren  ridge.  The  best  chance  here  just 
now  is  in  the  railroad  lands,  which  are  just  brought  into  market. 
They  can  be  had  at  prices  as  low  or  lower  than  prairie  lands, 
with  annual  payments  for  ten  years  at  seven  per  cent,  interest. 
Better  terms  could  not  be  offered.  By  the  fourth  year  a  good 
farmer  can  have  enough  raised  to  pay  for  his  farm,  at  from  five 
to  ten  dollars  per  acre. 

When  we  consider  that  timber  grows  readily  on  the  highest 
prairie  in  Eastern  Kansas,  when  the  sod  is  once  broken,  and 
fire  kept  off,  and  that  all  the  cultivated  grasses  and  evergreens 
need  but  to  be  sown  or  planted,  it  appears  that  the  facilities  for 
making  a  beautiful  home  exceed  even  those  of  Ohio. 

In  1872,  I  traversed  the  southern  tier  of  counties,  and  found 
the  region  rich  in  soil,  but  not  so  healthful  for  Northern  people. 
The  traveler  from  the  State  line  northward  observes  a  gradual 
rise  in  the  country.  About  Chetopa  or  Parker  he  will  find  ex- 
tensive flats  and  occasional  sloughs.  Coming  up  the  Neosho  or 
its  tributaries  to  Humboldt  or  Tola,  he  reaches  a  higher,  gently 
rolling  prairie,  sloping  toward  the  south,  without  sloughs, 
and  nowhere  rising  into  barren  ridges.  From  southeast  to 
northwest,  from  the  northern  part  of  Cherokee  County  to  Fort 
Scott,  and  thence  to  Emporia,  he  finds  a  fair  medium  between 
flat  and  high  lands.  In  the  northern  part  of  Allen  County, 
about  Divide  Station,  on  the  Leaven  worth,  Lawrence  and  Gal- 
veston  Railroad,  he  leaves  this  fertile  slope  for  the  "  Kidge." 
This  is  a  sort  of  spur  from  the  Ozark  Mountains,  running 
northwest  between  the  waters  which  flow  into  the  Neosho  and 
Arkansas,  and  those  flowing  eastward  into  the  Osage.  For  ten 
miles  there,  along  the  Leavenworth,  Lawrence  and  Galveston 
Railroad,  the  country  appears  to  me  very  barren ;  in  the  cuts 


REPTILES.  231 

the  rock  shows  in  compact  layers  but  a  few  inches  below  the 
surface,  and  the  soil  is  evidently  hard  and  cold.  Having  passed 
the  divide,  a  reverse  process  is  noticeable,  the  country  improv- 
ing northward  by  similar  gradations. 

"Noxious  varmints"  are  not  over-plentiful,  still  they  give 
some  trouble.  Snakes  are,  in  local  phrase,  "  uncommon  thick 
and  lively,"  near  the  southern  border.  But  I  suspect  it  is  nearly 
impossible  for  the  average  Kansian  to  tell  the  truth  about 
snakes.  The  temptation  to  make  a  "  pilgrim  "  open  his  eyes  is 
too  great  for  his  virtue.  I  killed  one  of  the  species  known  as 
"  bull  snake,"  which  was  five  feet  three  inches  long.  They  are 
quite  harmless,  and  get  their  name,  I  suppose,  from  their  thick 
bodies  and  blunt  heads.  Their  hiss  is  so  loud  and  resonant 
that  strangers  often  mistake  it  for  that  of  a  rattlesnake.  But  no 
western  man,  who  has  often  heard  that  blood-curdling  h'r-ah-h-h, 
of  the  real  crotalus,  will  ever  mistake  any  other  sound,  made 
by  man  or  brute,  for  it.  It  is  unique,  not  to  be  imitated  by  any 
art  of  man's  device.  We  heard  so  many  stories  along  the  bor- 
der about  snakes  that  we  were  perpetually  on  the  look-out,  and 
my  companion  generally  walked  with  eye  on  the  grass  and 
legs  limbered,  ready  for  a  jump.  Besides  the  accounts  which 
proved  authentic,  one  farmer  told  us  of  a  diamond  snake  biting 
his  horse  so  badly  that  the  animal  fell  dead,  and  when  he  ex- 
amined the  wound,  the  marks  of  the  fangs  were  four  inches 
apart.  Another  related  that  he  was  hoeing  corn,  when  he 
stirred  up  an  immense  rattler.  He  aggravated  it  till  it  struck 
its  fangs  into  the  hoe-handle.  Having  killed  it,  he  was  pro- 
ceeding with  his  work,  when  he  observed  the  hoe-handle  grow- 
ing larger,  sensibly  swelling  with  the  poison.  It  continued 
getting  worse  for  an  hour,  when  the  eye  of  the  hoe  popped  out. 
Worms,  also,  are  reported  bad ;  and  as  Kansians  always  do 
more  and  have  more  of  anything,  even  of  a  disease,  than  anybody 
else,  the  Trichina  spiralis  was  peculiarly  bad  in  Kansas.  An 
account  is  given  of  one  man  in  Doniphan  County,  during  the 
prevalence  of  that  newspaper  epidemic,  who  had  all  the  symp- 
toms, had  the  "  spirals  "  bore'  through  his  skin,  in  fact  got  de- 
cidedly "  wormy."  He  accordingly  took  a  powerful  emetic,  and 


"HONEST  FA  KM  EH."  233 

threw  up  three  or  four  handfulls  of  pork  worms,  three  lizards,  a 
section  of  the  worm  of  a  still,  two  bull  snakes,  and  a  few  rods 
of  worm  fence,  after  which,  adds  the  local  chronicle,  he  bqgan 
to  feel  better. 

The  most  dangerous  snakes  in  Southern  Kansas  are  the  short 
prairie  rattlesnakes,  seldom  over  two  feet  long.  They  are  some- 
what dull  and  sluggish,  and  farmers  come  upon  them  or  touch 
them  before  seeing  them,  but  I  never  heard  of  their  bite  killing 
any  one. 

"Ye  honest  farmer,"  of  Kansas,  is  like  the  same  individual 
in  Ohio,  only  a  little  more  so  ;  as  the  farther  West  one  goes  the 
more  he  finds  the  people  prone  to  exaggeration.  At  any  rate, 
tilings  lose  nothing  in  the  telling.  And  the  beauty  of  it  is, 
every  man  is  satisfied  with  his  claim,  pronouncing  it  the  very 
best,  richest,  best  located  and  watered  in  that  section.  True,  he 
would  sell,  sometimes,  if  a  reasonable  price,  cash,  were  offered; 
but  only  because  he  has  another  claim  in  view,  nearly  as  good, 
but  farther  out,  which  he  can  buy  cheap  for  cash,  and  have 
enough  left  from  this  sale  to  stock  it. 

There  are  two  kinds  of  farmers  in  America.     The  first  is  the 

e  t 

simple,  artless  yeoman,  who  never  plots,  and  is  incapable  of 
guile,  who  does  right  because  he  scarcely  knows  how  to  do 
wrong;  who  will  point  out  the  defects  of  anything  he  is  selling 
to  the  citizen ;  who  goes  singing  to  his  work,  is  the  pillar  of 
the  country  church,  and  a  condensed  epitome  of  all  the  virtues 
possessed  by  Adam — before  he  became  a  laborer.  This  is  the 
farmer  of  romance,  of  city  pastorals,  written  in  a  third-story 
back,  by  men  reared  in  the  city,  who  don't  know  white  clover 
from  dandelion,  but  must  coin  their  imagination  by  running 
city  bucolics  at  a  quarter  of  a  penny  aline,  or  less;  but  this  is 
not  the  kind  of  farmer  I  am  acquainted  with.  The  other  kind, 
with  whom  and  his  compeers  I  spent  the  first  eighteen  years  of 
my  life,  is  a  totally  different  being.  He  is  not  at  all  lacking  in 
art.  He  knows  how  to  ask  all  he  can  possibly  get,  and  a  little 
more.  He  is  a  being  with  whom  written  contracts  are  quite  in 
order,  for  I  am  sorry  to  say  he  will  too  often  fail  to  deliver  the 
promised  produce  if  the  second  comer  offers  a  little  more. 
Reason  :  he  has  no  commercial  character  to  sustain,  his  business 


234 


GO   TO    KANSAS. 


is  to  get  all  he  can.  He  is  honest  enough  after  his  fashion,  free 
and  frank  with  his  neighbors,  but  looks  upon  the  "  city  gent " 
as  lawful  prey.  Too  often  he  has  an  easy-fitting  morality  to 
the  effect  that,  as  all  others  "  look  flown  upon  the  laborer,"  the 
laborer  is  perfectly  justified  in  gouging  all  others  at  every  chance/ 
The  Kansas  farmers,  generally,  belong  to  the  class  I  have 
known  most  about.  Seriously,  though,  if  my  city  reader  ima- 
gines there  is  any  less  artfulness,  envy,  or  gossip,  or  "  taking 
advantage,"  in  the  country  than  in  the  city,  let  him  dismiss  the 
thought.  Or,  better  still,  let  him  go  to  the  country,  live  and 
work  there  a  year  or  two. 

Kansas,  then,  is  not  paradise.  There  is  no  paradise  anywhere 
West  that  I  am  aware  of.  I  have  visited  no  section  where 
"  grain,  flour,  and  fruit  gush  from  the  earth  until  the  land  runs 
o'er ;  "  but  there  is  yet  abundant  room  there  to  secure  a  farm, 
where  labor  will  surely  result  in  competence,  where  the  laws  are 
peculiarly  favorable  to  small  holders ;  society  is  making  rapid 
progress,  peace  and  plenty  reign,  and  all  who  will  be  virtuous 
may  be  happy. 


A    BAD   CASE   OF    TRICHINA. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

A    FLYING    TRIP. 

Down  to  St.  Joseph — Up  the  Missouri  Valley — Omaha  again — Dull  times  on  the 
Missouri — Keasons  given — Off  for  Sioux  City — Up-country  people — Yankton — 
Caught  in  a  storm— Dakota— Black  Hills— Gold  !— perhaps— Sioux  —  IAPH 
OAHYE  —  Called  westward  —  Union  Pacific — Mormondom  again  —  Over  to 
"  Frisco." 

FTER  "  doing "  Kansas  properly  we  set  out  from  Troy, 
Doniphan  County,  on  the  first  of  August,  to  hunt  a 
cooler  climate.  From  Troy  to  Elmwood,  opposite  St. 
Joseph,  we  pass  rapidly  over  a  down  grade.  St.  Joseph 
looks  well  from  the  opposite  side,  and,  like  Kansas 
City,  was  a  sort  of  exception  to  Missouri  River  towns  in  1871, 
in  that  it  had  some  business.  From  there  we  pass  to  Council 
Bluffs  on  the  Kansas  City,  St.  Joe  and  Council  Bluffs  Railroad, 
an  exceptionally  good  one.  I  remarked  the  apparent  youthful- 
ness  of  its  management.  It  seems  to  be  owned,  governed,  and 
run  almost  entirely  by  young  men ;  the  majority  of  those  I  saw 
connected  with  it  being  not  over  thirty  years  of  age.  The  whole 
road  had  a  general  air  of  newness  and  freshness ;  the  cars  were 
clean  and  provided  with  all  the  latest  attachments.  Among 
these  was  the  air-brake,  which  was  a  novelty  to  me,  and  a 
perfect  success,  while  the  cars,  locomotives  and  water-tanks  were 
of  the  latest  patterns.  We  passed  right  up  the  Missouri  Valley 
on  the  east  side  of  the  river,  all  the  distance  through  grassy 
meadows,  stretching  from  river  to  bluffs,  with  enough  air,  free 
from  dust;  and  it  is  superfluous  to  add  it  was  one  of  the  most 
enjoyable  trips  I  have  taken  out  West.  It  was  a  surprise  to 
me  how  little  of  that  valley  was  under  cultivation,  being  of 
rich  soil  and  supplied  with  near  markets.  I  would  not  have 
thought  so  much  of  it,  but  the  Nebraska  side  was  thickly  set- 

235 


236  LAND   GRANTS. 

tied.  In  fact,  the  eastern  sides  of  nearly  all  these  Western 
States  are  more  thickly  settled  than  the  western  sides  of  the 
State  adjoining  to  the  east.  Before  one  State  is  filled  to  its 
western  border  another  is  partially  surveyed  in  the  eastern  part, 
aild  immigration  commences  to  fill  it.  The  new  State  is  a  new 
field  for  selection,  and  all  open  to  choice.  It  thus  presents  new 
features  of  attraction,  and  the  succeeding  waves  of  people  pass 
over  into  it.  Another  cause  is  that  large  and  numerous  grants 
of  public  lands  were  made  to  railroads  in  Iowa.  There  were 
five  such  wide  squares  granted  east  and  west  across  Iowa,  and 
other  shorter  ones.  There  was  also  a  grant  along  this  railroad 
to  Council  Bluffs,  and  another  thence  to  Sioux  City.  On  the 
opposite  side  of  the  Missouri  the  lands  were  all  left  free  to  set- 
tlers. At  least  on  that  side  the  grants  run  westward  from  the 
river,  and  not  parallel  with  it.  Upon  the  Government  lands 
each  settler  can  take  a  quarter  section  of  one  hundred  and  sixty 
acres,  while  within  land  grants  he  can  take  only  eighty  acres, 
for  which  he  must  pay  double  price.  The  railroads  also  hold 
their  alternate  sections  of  land  higher  than  the  Government 
price.  There  are  thirty-six  sections  in  each  township.  Of 
these  the  railroad  gets  eighteen  odd-numbered  sections.  The 
sixteenth  and  thirty-sixth  sections  are  set  apart  for  school  pur- 
poses, leaving  only  sixteen  even  numbered  sections  for  settlers, 
preventing  solidly  continuous  settlements  unless  they  purchase 
from  the  railroad.  When  the  great  bodies  of  Government 
lands  are  near  they  naturally  prefer  them. 

We  reached  Omaha  after  this  pleasant  journey,  to  find  it 
painfully  dull.  This  was  shown  in  its  hotels,  in  its  streets  and 
its  business  houses.  There  was  no  movement  of  people  or 
appearances  of  trade  adequate  to  the  size  of  the  ciiy.  One 
walked  along  quiet  streets  and  passed  fronts  of  business  houses 
without  feeling  the  hurry  and  jostle  of  men  deep  in  business 
transactions.  Clerks  had  time  to  sit  down  and  read,  and  the 
ledger  was  often  closed.  The  stir  which  attended  the  rapid 
growth  of  Omaha  was  not  there,  and  I  did  not  observe  the 
same  surplus  crowds  of  mixed  people  that  once  thronged  its 
public  places. 


MISSOURI    VALLEY.  237 

The  people,  however,  gave  many  reasons  for  this  :  it  was  hot, 
and  public  energy  was  relaxed ;  farmers  were  busy  harvesting 
and  did  not  buy  of  the  small  towns,  which  in  turn  could  not 
buy  of  the  cities.  The  trade  had  ended  for  the  spring  and  had 
not  set  in  for  the  fall ;  the  crops  of  this  year  had  not  begun  to 
move.  The  city,  however,  proposes  large  plans  to  control  the 
wheat  trade  for  a  large  area  north  and  west,  and  ship  grain 
direct  after  the  plan  of  St.  Louis,  receiving  return  shipments  of 
merchandize  and  groceries  to  send  out  from  this  center.  While 
there  are  not  apparent  reasons  present  to  justify  the  realization 
of  this  plan,  there  are  also  other  ambitious  markets  that  would 
object  by  virtue  of  their  railroad  and  river  highways. 

Of  the  four  leading  towns  on  the  Missouri,  St.  Joe  alone  ex- 
hibited, in  1871,  average  life;  Kansas  City  was  doing  some- 
thing, while  Omaha  and  Leavenworth  seemed  to  be  living  in 
hope  of  the  tautumn.  All  the  four  did  less  paying  business 
than  Evansville,  Indiana,  or  Toledo,  Ohio.  We  proceeded 
north  to  Sioux  City,  Iowa,  by  the  way  of  Missouri  Valley 
Junction  and  the  Sioux  City  and  Pacific  Railroad.  All  this 
distance — a  hundred  miles — is  over  the  level,  broad  valley  of 
the  Missouri.  The  southern  part  of  the  valley  is  low  and  in 
places  very  wet  and  largely  occupied  by  sloughs  and  old  ba- 
yous. Particularly  is  this  the  case  west  of  the  junction  of  the 
Northwestern  and  Sioux  City  Railroad. '  The  country  is  settled 
only  on  the  bordering  higher  lands  and  slopes.  This  improves 
^s  we  pass  northward,  and  Onawa  and  Woodbury  are  fair  little 
villages  in  fine  stretches  of  land,  and  near  Sioux  City  the  coun- 
try seems  more  generally  occupied  and  better  improved. 

Before  reaching  Missouri  Valley  Junction  it  seemed  as  if  all 
the  passengers  were  through  passengers  from  the  East  or  West, 
and  one  could  hardly  see  a  person  destined  for  the  Upper  Mis- 
souri. But  when  the  call  to  change  cars  for  Sioux  City  was 
obeyed  we  soon  found  a  car  full  selected  from  all  the  others. 
These  seemed  generally  acquainted,  and  the  assorting  process 
improved  tRe  sociability.  At  once  inquiries  commenced  about 
Upper  Missouri  affairs,  and  the  characteristic  interest,  callings, 
•business  and  modes  of  life  of  the  upper  country  were  soon  de- 


238  sioux  CITY. 

veloped.  There  were  Sioux  City  bankers,  merchants  and  citi- 
zens, emigrants  for  northwest  Iowa  or  Dakota,  Indian  traders 
or  agents,  cattle  dealers  who  had  contracts,  herders,  fur  dealers, 
soldiers  returning  from  furlough,  and  many  other  good  people. 
We  soon  reached  Sioux  City,  and  looked  at  it  for  the  first  time. 
Not  prepared  to  expect  much  from  so  young  a  place,  we  were 
rather  pleased  than  otherwise  with  its  showing.  While  the 
trade  of  the  Missouri  cities  was  so  dull,  Sioux  City  could  hardly 
be  called  active,  yet  its  travel,  trade  and  business  movement 
was  all  the  season  justified. 

After  a  brief  stay  I  wrote  thus  of  Sioux  City : 
"The  city  is  fairly  and  advantageously  located  at  a  great 
bend  of  the  Missouri,  where  coming  from  the  west  between 
Dakota  and  Nebraska  it  curves  south  between  Iowa  and  Ne- 
braska. The  point  had  long  been  favorably  mentioned  in 
advance  of  the  completion  of  any  of  Iowa's  railroads.  At  one 
time  it  was  supposed  the  line  of  the  Union  Pacific  would  be 
westward  from  this  point.  Whether  by  fair  means  or  foul, 
Sioux  City  lost  that  advantage.  She  now  has,  however,  two 
good  lines  of  railroad  completed,  the  one  connecting  with  the 
Northwestern,  and  the  other  east  to  Dubuque,  run  by  the  Illi- 
nois Central.  Another  line  is  rapidly  approaching  completion 
from  Minneapolis,  and  lines  are  prospected — one  north  to  Red 
River,  one  west  to  .Yankton,  Dakota,  and  one  southwest  to 
Columbus,  Nebraska.  The  population  is  about  four  thousand  ; 
there  are  several  large  firms  and  heavy  business  houses.  The 
town  is  well  built  in  part  with  some  excellent  buildings  and 
large  blocks,  while  there  are  the  usual  board  houses.  Heavy 
fires  are  rapidly  clearing  these  away,  and  where  ten  days  ago  a 
block  of  shanties  was  burned,  brick  stores  are  being  built. 
What  was  then  accounted  a  loss,  is  now  declared  a  gain.  Two 
daily  newspapers  are  proofs  of  thrift  and  enterprise.  The 
Journal,  edited  by  G.  D.  Perkins,  Esq.,  is  a  reliable  Republi- 
can paper,  devoted  to  the  interests  of  the  region,  and  well  sup- 
ported. The  Times,  edited  by  Charles  Collins,  Esq.,  is  the 
oldest  paper,  is  independent,  but  rather  Democratic,  strikes 
here  and  there  as  occasion  offers,  and  is  hardly  so  prosperous." 


DAKOTA    FARMS.  239 

The  railroad  to  Minneapolis  is  now  completed,  as  is  another 
to  Yankton. 

Early  next  morning  I  mounted  a  stage  for  Yaukton.  The 
previous  night  had  brought  one  of  the  heaviest  rains  ever 
known,  and  the  morning  was  dull,  cloudy,  and  hot.  The  mud 
was  like  glue.  There  was  a  peculiarity  in  it  I  never  saw  before. 
It  seemed  to  collect  constantly  on  the  wheels,  at  times  com- 
pletely wadding  them  up,  and  then  it  would  fall  off  in  a  huge 
pile.  The  mud  was  a  peculiar  mixture  of  clay  and  sand,  and 
its  tenacity  was  increased  by  the  prairie  grass  mingled  with  it. 
After  all  this  is  a  musical  world  if  it  is  only  wound  up  right, 
and  there  never  was  a  stage  trip  unrelieved  by  humor.  Our 
load  had  its  characters  who  told  their  stories  in  spite  of  heat 
and  mud.  One  suggested  that  this  would  be  a  good  country  in 
which  to  store  mud  for  winter  use,  or  catch  tadpoles  and  bleach 
them  for  oysters;  while  his  excuse  for  smoking  in  the  stage 
was  that  his  corns  hurt  him  in  wet  weather,  and  he  smoked  for 
his  corns. 

Northwestward,  up  the  Missouri,  we  struggled,  and  in  twenty 
miles  reached  better  roads  and  finer  farms,  with  neat  cottages. 
In  the  corner,  between  the  Big  Sioux  and  Missouri  River,  is  a 
French  settlement,  while  further  on  are  many  Scandinavian 
settlements,  and  elsewhere  Bohemians,  though  the  prevailing 
population  is  American.  The  Valley  of  the  Missouri  is  from 
five  to  fifteen  miles  wide,  a  broad,  high,  level  flood  plain,  bor- 
dered along  the  streams  with  heavy  bodies  of  timber.  On 
either  side  of  the  road  were  waving  heavy  fields  of  grain,  just 
ripe,  and  in  them  were  reaping  machines  at  work.  All  the 
people  seemed  busy  and  fairly  prosperous.  We  saw  one  notice- 
able sight.  A  Dane,  about  six  feet  in  hight,  was  driving  four 
oxen  to  a  self-raker,  and  two  big  Danish  women  binding  after 
it.  Farther  away  were  Norwegian  women  binding  and  shock- 
ing wheat.  Oh !  Anthony,  Stanton,  Stevens,  how  would  not 
your  tears  of  sympathy  have  been  shed  at  this  sight.  But  I 
suppose  there  is  no  relief.  The  Legislature  of  Dakota,  last 
winter,  refused  to  enfranchise  the  sex  of  which  ye  are  the 
representatives.  In  Dakota  they  evidently  have  an  eye  rather 


240 


AT    YANKTON. 


WOMAN'S  RIGHTS  IN  DAKOTA. 

to  the  utility  of  women  than  her  rights.  But  I  thought  how 
blessed  were  these  people  from  Norway  and  Sweden,  that  they 
could  come  to  so  goodly  a  land  and  on  their  own  farms  be  pri- 
vileged to  gather  such  crops. 

At  9  P.  M.  we  entered  Yankton,  the  ambitious  capital  of  Da- 
kota, where  I  spent  a  delightful  week  with  my  brother,  then 
Surveyor  General  of  the  Territory.  There  was  not  so  much 
difference  in  climate  between  this  and  Kansas  as  one  would 
expect.  The  nights  are  a  little  cooler,  perhaps,  but  in  August 
the  days  are  about  as  hot.  One  of  the  vagaries  of  the  climate 
I  was  destined  to  realize  in  a  way  more  novel  than  pleasant. 
On  the  hottest  afternoon  in  early  August  I  went  driving  upon 
the  open  prairie,  with  my  nieces,  aged  twelve  and  fourteen 
years.  When  ten  or  twelve  miles  from  town,  the  sky  suddenly 
darkened,  and  in  a  few  minutes  was  overcast  with  heavy  black 
clouds,  a  strong  wind  springing  up  in  a  moment  from  the 
northwest.  I  made  all  haste  towards  Yankton,  but  before 


SUDDEN    CHANGE, 


241 


ANY    PORT   IX   A  STORM. 


I  had  driven  a  mile  the  rain  was  coming  in  torrents.  The  wind 
being  across  our  track,  threatened  every  moment  to  overturn 
the  carriage,  and  I  was  forced  to  diverge  from  the  road  and 
drift  before  the  storm  upon  the  open  prairie.  In  ten  minutes 
our  way  was  so  obscured,  I  could  only  determine  that  we  were 
going  down  a  gentle  slope,  but  where  I  knew  not.  Coming 
upon  a  few  stout  posts,  set  up  to  mark  a  "claim/'  I  ran  the 
team  over  one  so  as  to  anchor  the  carriage  fast  upon  it  by  the 
doubletrees,  and  determined  to  sit  out  the  storm. 

In  less  than  half  an  hour  the  thermometer  must  have  sunk 
thirty  degrees.  The  wind  increased  to  a  perfect  hurricane, 
howling  by  us  in  a  way  that  threatened  destruction  ;  the  top  of 
the  carriage  gave  way,  and  in  the  slight  lulls  of  the  tempest  I 
could  hear  the  horses  groaning  and  the  girls  crying  and  praying. 
We  were  drenched  already  by  the  chilling  rain,  and  nothing 
was  to  be  gained  by  staying  in  the  carriage,  which  every 
moment  threatened  to  fly  into  splinters.  We  determined  to 
16 


242 


ROUGH    EXPERIENCE. 


leave  it,  and  try  to  make  our 
way  to  a  cabin  we  remem- 
bered a  mile  back  on  the  road. 
Foot  by  foot  we  fought  our 
way  along,  sometimes  crouch- 
ing to  leeward  of  the  highest 
knolls  for  a  moment's  breath- 
ing, then  plunging  on,  all 
clasped  together,  through  the 
mud  and  rain.  Every  low 
piece  of  ground  was  covered 
by  torrents  of  running  water. 
I  could  not  carry  both  the 
children,  and  if  we  had  sepa- 
rated, the  smaller  was  in  dan- 
ger of  being  blown  away  ;  so 
we  waded  with  clasped  arms 
through  water  up  to  their 
waists. 

We  reached  the  cabin  in  an 
hour.  I  was  too  much  ex- 
hausted to  speak,  and  the  chil- 
dren sank  breathless  upon  the 
floor,  to  the  no  small  astonish- 
ment of  the  inmates.  By  a 
vigorous  application  of  hot 
whiskey,  flannel,  and  bricks, 
myself  and  the  younger  child 
escaped  without  injury;  but 
the  older  suffered  a  long  and 
serious  illness.  Evidently  it 
requires  some  "  weather  wis- 
dom "  to  carriage-ride  in  Da- 
kota. 

Not  more  than  a  third, 
perhaps  a  fourth,  of  the 
Territory  is  good  arable  land, 


FRIENDLY    DAKOTAHS.  243 

and  of  that  third,  less  than  one-tenth  is  settled.  The  only  white 
inhabitants  are  in  the  southeast  corner  and  in  the  far  northeast, 
at  Pembina,  near  the  British  line.  Along  the  eastern  border, 
including  the  valleys  of  Big  Sioux  and  Red  River,  is  a  fertile 
strip  a  hundred  miles  wide;  this  also  extends  a  little  way  up 
the  Missouri.  The  good  land  may  be  represented  rudely  by  a 
V,  the  left  arm  much  the  shorter  and  more  narrow;  all  the  rest 
consists  of  high  and  half-barren  plains,  sometimes  scantily  clothed 
with  grass,  and  often  entirely  bare.  All  the  center  and  west 
are  occupied  by  various  bands  of  the  Dakotahs  or  Sioux.  Those 
at  the  Lower  Agency  are  "civilized,"  that  is,  they  raise  some 
crops,  swear,  drink  whiskey,  and  dress  with  some  approach  to 
the  white  costume.  One  flourishing  church,  Episcopalian,  is 
composed  of  Sioux,  who  have  also  a  weekly  paper.  It  is  called 
the  lape  Oahye,  meaning  "Talk  carried  about,"  is  Republican 
in  politics,  and  ardently  supports  the  "  humanitarian  Indian 
policy  "  of  President  Grant. 

The  western  part  of  Dakota  extends  into  the  Black  Hills, 
and  every  year  or  so  exciting  rumors  reach  us  of  gold  dis- 
coveries in  that  section  ;  but  as  it  is  in  the  great  Indian  Reser- 
vation, the  U.  S.  officials  forbid  all  immigration.  Northward 
and  east  of  the  Missouri  are  the  "Bad  Lands,'7  regions  of  deso- 
lation and  death,  to  which  all  that  can  be  said  of  Western 
deserts  fully  applies.  The  eastern  part,  and  as  much  of  the 
central  as  is  valuable,  is  being  rapidly  surveyed  ;  the  Territory 
has  doubled  in  population  within  four  years ;  and  presents  an 
inviting  field  to  the  emigrant  from  our  most  northern  States  and 
Northern  Europe. 

My  second  Sunday  at  Yankton,  I  was  startled  by  a  telegram 
bringing  notice  that  a  party  was  then  waiting  at  Omaha,  and 
earnestly  desiring  my  company  on  the  great  overland  excursion. 
On  Monday  I  staged  the  sixty-five  miles  thence  to  Sioux  City, 
and  of  all  the  staging  I  ever  did  in  the  West,  I  am  qualified  to 
say  that  experience  was  the  worst.  Starting  at  4  A.  M.,  we 
jogged  on  for  sixteen  weary  hours  in  the  dead  air  of  the  Mis- 
souri bottoms,  the  bluffs  shutting  off  all  air  from  the  northward, 
and  the  timber  along  the  Missouri  giving  the  effect  of  a  hot 


A    HOT    RIDE.  245 

brick  wall  on  the  other  side.  The  sun  in  that  latitude  shines 
fifteen  hours  daily  in  August,  and  most  of  that  time  the  thermo- 
meter never  sank  below  ninety  degrees.  Seven  men  were 
crowded  into  a  close  "jerky,"  without  springs,  the  stock  was 
miserable,  and  the  drivers  apparently  half  dead,  and  in  the 
middle  stage  we  were  six  hours  going  fifteen  miles.  One  pas- 
senger was  half  insane  with  heat  and  fatigue;  another  was 
attacked  with  gastritis;  the  other  four,  besides  myself,  were  dis- 
charged soldiers  returning  from  Fort  Berthold,  who  made  the 
day  hideous  with  blasphemy,  constantly  cursing  the  driver  until 
the  air  was  so  impregnated  with  damnation  I  am  confident  it 
added  ten  degrees  to  the  temperature.  I  reached  Sioux  City 
completely  exhausted,  but  somewhat  relieved  to  find  that  the 
intense  heat — or  some  other  motive  power — had  produced  even 
worse  effects  there,  as  there  had  been  one  deadly  assault,  two 
bloody  riots  and  a  daring  robbery,  all  within  twenty-four  hours. 
It  was  a  black  day  in  the  calendar  of  Sioux  City.  As  I  walked 
out  to  get  cool  before  retiring,  the  open  doors  of  half  a  dozen 
concert  rooms  invited  the  weary ;  saloons  seemed  surprisingly 
thick  for  a  State  which  gave  forty  thousand  majority  for  a  tem- 
perance ticket,  and  evening  business  of  all  sorts  was  lively. 
And  yet  Sioux  City  was  not  happy.  It  had  been  so  generally 
prosperous,  ami  grown  so  rapidly  since  the  completion  of  its  two 
railroads,  that  the  general  dulness  on  the  Missouri  seemed  to 
its  citizens  twice  as  bad  by  contrast.  The  average  of  business 
was  good,  but  average  business  the  old  settlers  call  "dull 
times." 

The  ride  down  the  Sioux  City  and  Pacific  Railroad  to  Mis- 
souri Valley  Junction  is  through  a  broad,  rich  prairie  bottom 
almost  unsettled,  and  in  northwestern  Iowa  generally  the  towns 
are  a  little  ahead  of  the  country.  The  new  telegraph  line  from 
that  place  to  Yankton  is  a  worthy  exhibit  of  the  enterprise  of 
western  Young  America.  It  was  projected  by  Mr.  Rome  J. 
Percy,  known  to  journalistic  fame  as  correspondent  of  the  j\rew 
York  Herald  from  Mexico,  at  the  time  of  Maximilian's  occupa- 
tion. With  two  others  he  put  up  the  line  from  Sioux  City  to 
Yankton  as  a  purely  private  project.  There  their  means  gave 


246 


WOMEN    TOURISTS.  247 

out,  but  Congress  came  to  their  aid,  and  granted  a  small  sub- 
sidy for  its  extension,  and  they  are  now  engaged  extending  the 
line  to  the  forts  on  the  Upper  Missouri.  The  valley  down  to 
Omaha  is  only  interesting  for  prospective  agriculture;  man  has 
not  much  improved  on  nature  as  yet. 

Reaching  Omaha,  I  found  an  unusually  merry  party  ready 
for  the  trip  to  California;  and  I  may  add  as  a  wonder  that  most 
of  the  ladies  enjoyed  it  even  more  than  they  had  anticipated,  for 
women  are  nearly  always  disappointed  with  the  western  tour. 
Woman,  as  a  tourist,  is  not  a  success.  In  the  first  place,  she  is 
too  elaborate  in  the  relations  of  space  as  well  as  time;  requires 
too  much  room,  and  has  too  many  needs  and  dependencies. 
Perhaps  I  should  say  this  of  the  eastern  woman  on  a  tour  out 
west.  We  approach  such  criticisms  or  reports  with  proper  awe, 
but  are  driven  to  them  by  the  manifest  suffering  about  us.  The 
woman  suffers  from  the  alternations  of  heat  and  cold,  sun  and 
shade,  to  which  she  is  unable,  by  experience  or  habit,  to  accom- 
modate herself.  More  than  all  else,  she  suffers  in  the  item  of 
provisions.  A  man  rushes  in  to  the  table  without  elaborate 
toilet,  and  eats  heartily,  even  if  the  place  does  look  doubtful. 
Woman  prefers  temporary  starvation  to  a  questionable  meal. 
This  dilemma  is  unavoidably  presented  frequently. 

A  little  starving  may  be  all  very  well  were  it  not  for  the 
consequences.  The  result  is  generally  a  headache,  an  illness  at 
the  next  stopping  place,  and  inability  to  eat  when  she  reaches  a 
suitable  table.  The  nerve  from  the  brain  to  the  stomach  is  not 
so  large  in  woman  as  in  man,  so  she  can  starve  with  less  present 
pain,  but  it  produces  worse  effects.  Farther  west  comes  the 
alkali,  or  in  places  the  chemical  springs;  the  vicious  air  turns 
the  rouge  to  green  and  the  toilet  powder  to  a  dirty  brown. 
Lovely  woman  becomes  a  fright,  realizes  it  through  her  jaundiced 
feelings,  and  suffers  in  temper  and  spirits  accordingly.  It  is 
not  wonderful  that  we  sometimes  hear  her  asked  such  questions 
as,  "What  is  the  matter,  now  I"  the  last  word  with  more  of 
irony  than  art,  suggesting  that  something  is  generally  wrong. 
All  this  is  very  sad,  and  perhaps  unavoidable;  but  there  are 
three-fold  greater  evils,  most  of  which  might  be  avoided  if  fully 
informed  before  setting  out. 


248  TAKE   THE   TRIP. 

Of  all  the  women  who  for  any  motive  are  known  to  cross 
the  Plains  not  one  in  ten  really  enjoys  it.  There  is  an  excess 
of  baggage ;  they  seem  to  regard  it  as  a  long  picnic,  and  expect 
the  same  attention  from  their  male  companions.  All  is  very 
nice  for  a  day  or  two,  like  a  picnic  or  brief  excursion,  but 
such  a  style  becomes  a  fearful  bore  when  kept  up  for  five  or 
six  weeks.  A  trip  across  the  plains  should  be  a  practical  exem- 
plification of  woman's  rights.  She  should  be  self-reliant  and 
largely  able  to  take  care  of  herself.  In  fact  it  is  a  terrible  di- 
lemma presented  to  the  female  mind  in  this  shape — less  baggage 
or  very  little  comfort. 

I  noticed  one  little  Missouri  woman  to  whom  this  was  evi- 
dently neither  a  first  nor  second  trip.  She  wore  a  short  dress, 
not  elaborated  much  beyond  usefulness,  of  stout  material,  not  of 
a  kind  to  show  dust.  She  had  one  trunk  and  no  hand  pack- 
ages, enjoyed  reasonably  broad  soled  walking  shoes,  and  carried 
not  an  ornamental  fan,  but  a  tough  Japanese.  The  cars  and 
accommodations  suited  her  because  she  was  prepared  to  suit 
them.  With  some  such  outfit,  and  a  determination  to  start 
right  and  keep  even,  an  eastern  lady  may  make  the  western 
tour  with  little  more  annoyance  than  a  man.  To  these  reflec- 
tions I  am  driven  by  observations  on  various  trips.  The 
majority  of  the  passengers  are  eastern  people  looking  at  the 
West.  Many  of  them  are  ladies,  and  these  are  all  about  equally 
miserable. 

Of  course  no  American  will  think  of  going  abroad  till  he  has 
seen  something  of  his  own  country — particularly  that  important 
part  which  may  be  seen  by  a  trip  over  the  Union  Pacific.  I 
wish  that  sentence  were  as  true  as  it  appears  to  me  reasonable. 
For  really  there  is  no  excuse  now  for  one  who  wants  to  travel 
and  can  afford  it,  and  does  not  see  some  of  the  wonders  of  the 
West:  especially  when  so  great  a  variety  may  be  seen  at  compa- 
ratively little  expense.  The  company  have  exhausted  the  re- 
sources of  railroad  ingenuity,  and  what  with  palace  cars,  obser- 
vation cars  and  dining  stations,  with  other  appliances  of  art,  all 
may  enjoy  the  trip  to  the  utmost,  and  excursions  are  more  in 
favor  than  ever.  Great  has  been  the  rhetoric  expended  over 


REVOLUTION.  249 

this  line,  but  it  has  not  become  stale;  still  the  overland 
railway  seems  as  great  an  accomplishment  as  ever.  The  com- 
pany has  lately  issued  an  elaborate  series  of  views  representing 
points  of  greatest  interest,  from  which  the  tourist  can  most  easily 
learn  what  he  wants  to  see  and  how  to  see  it. 

We  reached  Salt  Lake  City  at  the  end  of  fifty-three  hours 
from  Omaha,  and  after  the  inevitable  visit  to  the  warm  baths 
I  strolled  over  to  Main  Street,  and  as  I  turned  the  corner  of 
First  South  Street,  I  stopped  with  amazement.  Never,  in  all 
my  experience  with  western  cities,  have  I  seen  such  a  change  as 
had  come  over  Salt  Lake  within  a  year.  Stacks  of  bullion — 
silver  and  lead — graced  the  corners,  crowds  of  miners  thronged 
the  pavements;  half  a  dozen  hotels  were  full  of  visitors,  capital- 
ists and  superintendents,  all  Gentile  ;  bright  open  fronts  and  gay 
lights  displayed  the  interior  glories  of  the  "  Alhambra,"  "  Mag- 
nolia," "Salt  Lake  Billiard  Rooms"  and  half  a  dozen  other  places 
of  resort,  and  for  two  or  three  squares  Main  Street  was  emphati- 
cally an  eastern — more  than  all,  a  Gentile — institution.  At 
least  ten  thousand  miners  were  at  work  in  this,  Toelle  and  Juab 
Counties,  and  a  financial,  social,  and  political  revolution  was  in 
such  rapid  progress  that  the  actors  therein  stood  amazed  at  their 
own  work.  That  revolution  has  continued,  but  more  slowly; 
never  so  fast  as  in  1871.  Still  the  Mormon  Church  is  the 
really  dominant  power;  still  it  governs  the  city  and  Territory, 
though  the  popular  exclusiveness  is  yielding  so  fast  that  the 
priesthood  are  alternately  in  rage  and  despair.  Revolutions 
invariably  bring  hidden  evils  to  the  surface,  and  the  Mormons 
show  eager  haste  in  pointing  out  the  bad  effects  of  which  a  few 
have  followed  this  great  influx.  The  evil  must  come  with  the 
good.  On  either  side  of  the  dead-line  of  moral  mediocrity  and 
religious  formalism,  lies  a  broad  field  of  evil  or  good  ;  and  it  is 
impossible  to  open  to  a  man  the  highest  range  of  the  one  with- 
out leaving  him  free  to  enter  the  other -if  so  he  will.  Mormon- 
ism  boasted  that  it  had  produced  a  city  of  quiet  and  order;  and 
so  it  had — the  quiet  of  mental  stagnation  ;  the  order  of  a  perfect 
religious  conformity,  of  a  system  which  brooked  no  schism  and 
of  which  the  advocates  "  knew  they  were  right,  and  wanted  no 


250 

one  about  who  did  not  think  as  they."  With  more  liberty  for 
action  has  come  more  license,  and  in  the  period  of  transition, 
evil  is  more  noisy  and  demonstrative.  But  the  Liberals  of 
Utah  need  not  shrink  from  the  comparison.  Surely  it  must  be 
more  pleasing  to  God  and  to  intelligent  men,  that  some  should 
freely  and  willingly  do  right,  though  others  with  equal  freedom 
do  evil,  than  that  all  should  be  cast  in  the  mould  of  an  iron- 
bound  necessity — a  cold,  compressed  union,  under  a  theocracy 
which  ever  boasted  that  it  prevented  some  evils,  because  it 
tolerated  no  individuality,  and  allowed  no  evil  but  its  own. 

This  was  one  of  the  good  points  of  Mormonism  :  the  Church 
monopolized  the  crime.  She  punished  unsparingly  whatever 
was  not  done  by  her  order.  She  permitted  crime  to  run  in  cer- 
tain channels,  but  she  resolutely  kept  it  there.  Now  that  the 
Church  monopoly  is  broken,  individual  sinfulness  is  more  open, 
noisy  and  apparent ;  but  the  aggregate,  I  am  sure,  will  average 
for  the  better. 

To  such  conclusions  did  I  come  on  my  third  visit  to  Utah. 
Our  trip  thence  to  "  Frisco"  was  uneventful.  Late  in  the 
afternoon  of  a  bright  August  day  we  left  the  cars,  under  the 
clear  sky  and  in  the  warm  air,  at  Oakland,  and  steamed  over 
the  Bay  into  the  cold,  chilly  evening  fog  of  San  Francisco. 
There  we  enjoyed  ourselves  three  days  and  made  ready  for  the 
grand  tour  to  the  Yosemite  and  other  wonders  of  the  Sierras. 


CHAPTER    XT. 

WONDERS   OF   THE   SIERRAS. 

Off  for  Calaveras— The  route — Copperopolis — Up  the  Sierras — First  view  of  the 
Grove — Particular  trees — Emotions  excited— Route  thence  to  Yosemite — Table 
Mountain — Bret  Uarte — Terrible  descent — Into  the  Valley — A  world  of  won- 
ders— Fatigue  and  reflection — Description  impossible. 


LL  aboard  for  Yosemite  and  the  Big  Trees !  How  the 
mind  swells  as  these  words  are  called  through  the 
hotel,  and  the  fancy  paints  what  is  to  come :  visions  of 
giant  vegetation  and  wondrous  woods  ;  of  riotous  nature 
in  a  tropical  clime  and  fertile  soil,  exceeding  all  the 
wonders  of  romance  with  growing  reality  ;  of  rocky  canons  and 
happy  valleys ;  of  glacier-hewn  cliffs,  reared  thousands  of  feet 
in  the  air;  of  waterfalls  and  mirror  lakes;  of  immense  flumes, 
cut  by  living  streams  in  the  solid  granite;  of  majestic  falls,  and 
crystal  cascades  foaming  from  a  hundred  hills. 

But  between  us  and  these  wonders  intervene  many  miles  of 
wearisome  travel,  days  of  toil  and  nights  of  broken  rest.  Before 
my  visit  I  wondered  that  so  many  excursionists  visited  Califor- 
nia, and  never  went  to  Yosemite  or  the  Big  Trees.  I  wonder 
no  longer;  for  the  trip  is  one  which  may  well  make  the  most 
hardy  hesitate,  though  truly  assured  that  in  the  end  he  shall  see 
wonders  that  have  no  equal  upon  this  planet.  Two  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  of  staging  upon  the  rocky  Sierras,  beneath  an 
August  sun,  and  half  the  time  enveloped  in  red  dust,  are  enough 
to  make  one  seriously  ask,  Does  it  pay  to  visit  Yosemite? 

We  leave  chilly  "  Frisco"  at  4  p.  M.,  and  spend  the  night  at 
Stockton,  experiencing  in  that  short  distance  .about  as  great  a 
change  of  climate  as  if  we  should  go  in  April  from  Chicago  to 
New  Orleans.  Thence  at  daylight  we  take  the  Stockton  and 

251 


. 


252 


A   DESIRABLE   COMPANION. 


253 


Copperopolis  Railroad,  which 
is  to  run  to  the  latter  place, 
on  the  lower  foothills  of  the 
Sierras,  but  does  run  to  Milton, 
where  the  foothills  begin.  In 
California,  everything  under 
two  thousand  feet  high  is 
called  a  hill ;  if  it  leads  up  to 
a  mountain,  a  foothill.  At  8 
o'clock  of  a  sultry  morning  we, 
take  the  stage  at  Milton  and 
strike  northeast,  over  a  dusty 
road,  cheered  at  rare  intervals 
by  a  transient  breath  of  wine}. 
Of  a  car  full  of  excursionists, 
but  two  were  ready  to  start 
now :  myself  and  scientific 
companion,  Mr.  J.  W.  Book- 
waiter,  of  Springfield,  Ohio, 
who  has  earned  an  honorable 
place  in  the  history  of  our 
State.  Fourteen  years  ago,  he 
and  I  left  our  homes  in  the 
Wabash  Valley  for  the  Michi- 
gan University,  and  surely  two 


poorer     or      more 


thorough 


"  Hoosiers  "  never  entered  that 
far-famed  institute.  We  cal- 
culated the  very  interest  on 
shoe-leather,  and  studied  how 
to  rest  our  arms  on  a  writing- 
desk  so  as  to  least  wear  out 
our  sleeves.  Eight  years  after- 
ward, Mr.  Book  waiter  was  a 
noted  inventor;  in  I860  he 
became  the  managing  head  and 
principal  stockholder  in  the 


t 


A    MONSTKFL 


254 


"  M.»    KETCH      UM. 


' 


HYDRAULIC   MINING. 


<f  Lcffel  Turbine  Water-wheel  Company,"  of  Springfield,  and 
has  accumulated,  in  seven  years,  a  fortune  of  over  half  a  million. 
The  company  have  five  thousand  wheels  at  work  in  various 
parts  of  the  world.  Such  a  success  is  an  omen  of  good  to 
young  men  of  inventive  genius,  and  a  subject  of  just  pride  to 
our  State.  Mr.  Bookwalter,  while  still  young,  is  the  embodied 
romance  of  mechanical  genius,  and,  to  use  a  hackneyed  phrase, 
one  of  the  rising  young  men  of  Ohio.  We  mingle  science  and 
literature  to  beguile  the  weary  way,  as  our  route  is  over  barren 
hills  and  rocky  flats  to  Copperopolis,  where  we  find  a  sort  of 
oasis,  and  take  a  sort  of  dinner.  This  is  one  of  the  dead  mining 
towns  of  the  Sierras,  built  in  the  "  great  copper  excitement." 
All  around  town  we  see  the  old  copper  works,  long  abandoned, 
and  the  general  aspect  is  of  tumble-down  and  decay.  Tne  his- 
tory of  this  experiment,  as  that  of  thousands  of  others  hereabout, 
is,  as  summed  up  by  the  Piute  comment:  "  Koshbannim  !  heap 
money  spend ;  goddam,  no  ketch  'urn." 


GOOD    FOR   THE   LIVER. 


255 


From  noon  till  5  P.  M.  we  endure  the  thumping  of  a  Concord 
coach  over  the  Sierra  spurs,  those  within  frying,  those  without 
broiling;  in  valleys  where  the  thermometer  stands  in  dead 
air  at  100°,  or  over  ridges  where  the  stifling  dust  is  miti- 
gated sometimes  by  a  gentle  breeze. 
This  all  the  way  to  Murphy's,  another 
old  mining  town,  where  we  receive  the 
cheering  intelligence  that  the  real  trou- 
ble of  the  route  is  about  to  begin.  We 
change  from  the  coach  to  a  "  mountain- 
wagon  " — so-called — a  street  hack  with 
three  seats  and  no  springs.  There  is 
no  use  for  any,  they  would  not  last,  and 
the  passengers  cannot  keep  their  seats 
half  the  time  anyhow.  It's  a  capital 
thing  for  a  torpid 
liver.  In  this  we 
Bake  the  remaining 
fourteen  miles  to  the 
Grove.  Despite  the 
jolting  I  prefer  the 
change.  We  leave 
the  dust  behind  • 
there  is  not  soil 
enough  on  the  route 
to  create  it.  We 
run  beside  clear, 
cold  streams.  We 
are  in  a  region  of 
cool  airs.  We  are 
shaded  by  rocky 
cliffs,  or  on  the 

levels  by  tall  timber ;  and  the  wild,  ever-varying  beauty  of  gorge, 
crag,  or  wooded  flat  makes  me  forget  fatigue.  It  is  evening,  too  ; 
all  the  way  up  hill,  necessitating  slow  driving,  and  giving 
time  in  the  calms  to  look  about. 

The  vegetation  begins  to  change  rapidly.    The  shrubby  man- 


THE  TWO  GUARDSMEN. 


256  IN    TALL   TIMBER. 


A  COTILLON   PARTY  DANCING  ON  THE  MAMMOTH   TREE. 

zanita,  dwarfish  oak,  and  arrowwood  disappear,  and  we  are  in 
a  magnificent  forest  of  tall  trees  without  underbrush.  Every 
mile  the  trees  increase  in  size;  the  smallest  we  see  for  hours 
are  three  or  four  feet  in  thickness,  and  nature  seems  to  usher  us 
in  through  fitting  portals  to  the  wonders  that  are  to  come.  The 
big  trees  do  not  stand  alone  in  grandeur,  as  I  had  supposed ; 
but,  for  twenty  miles  around,  vegetation  shades  off  gradually  in 
forests  of  immense  pines.  At  last  we  reach  the  borders  of 
"  The  Grove  "  par  excellence,  while  there  is  still  light  enough 
to  appreciate  its  glories. 

There  they  stand,  the  vegetable  wonders  of  the  world,  in  the 
gathering  twilight,  some  in  clusters,  joining  their  branches  like 
the  columns  of  great  gothic  arches  reaching  away  to  prop  the 
firmament,  or  now  and  then  one  isolated  and  stretching  out 
gaunt  arms  and  opening  boughs  as  if  it  would  drink  the  clouds. 
The  majority  appear  stumpy  and  truncated,  too  thick  for  their 
length  ;  but  others  stretch  away  in  long,  graceful  columns  of 
arborescent  proportions,  hight,  thickness,  and  branches,  all  in 
such  perfect  correspondence,  that  half  the  effect  of  their  size  is 
lost.  Indeed,  they  do  not  look  at  first  sight  nearly  so  large  as 
they  are ;  there  is  such  harmony  in  adjacent  trees,  and  between 
different  parts  of  the  same  tree,  that  the  sense  of  size  is  lessened 
by  that  of  elegant  uniformity.  But  many  of  the  trees  of  two 
or  three  hundred  feet  in  hight,  have  a  decidedly  stumpy  ap- 
pearance, looking  like  gigantic  stubs  rather  than  trees.  At  first 
view  it  seemed  to  me  the  tops  must  have  been  broken  off.  The 


FIRST   IMPRESSIONS.  257 

branches  add  much  to  this  illusion  from  the  fact  that  they  bend 
downward,  starting  even  from  the  body  of  the  tree  at  an  angle 
of  twenty  degrees  below  the  horizontal.  This,  I  am  told,  is 
caused  by  the  weight  of  winter  snows,  continued  annually 
through  all  the  thousands  of  years  of  their  growth.  The 
smallest  of  these  adjacent  trees  in  an  Ohio  forest  would  create 
astonishment;  yet  here  they  appear  trifling,  as  mere  striplings 
shading  off  and  filling  nature's  intervals  between  the  mammoths 
and  common  underbrush.  Strangest  of  all,  other  things  appear 
much  dwarfed.  As  the  coach  drives  between  the  "Two 
Guardsmen/7  at  the  entrance  of  the  Grove,  the  horses  appear 
like  mere  ponies,  shrunk  to  half  their  natural  size.  My  com- 
panion, as  he  leans  against  the  monstrous  trunk,  and  extends  his 
arms  for  me  to  judge  its  width  by  them,  appears  a  mere  mannikin ; 
the  smallest  tree,  one  I  had  guessed  at  four  feet,  spreads  a  foot 
or  two  on  either  side  beyond  the  natural  reach  of  his  fingers, 
and  dwarfs  him  amazingly  by  comparison.  Here  is  the  place 
for  man  to  realize  his  littleness.  In  the  evening  shades  of 
these  green  arches,  how  naturally  the  mind  reverts  to  thoughts 
of  the  vast,  the  unchangeable,  the  infinite.  Heaven  itself  seems 
nearer  in  our  thoughts ;  riotous  mirth  is  hushed ;  solemn  awe 
fills  the  soul,  and  in  low- toned  exclamations  alone  we  briefly 
converse. 

But  forty  miles  of  staging  over  boulders  and  rocky  up-grade, 
with  dust  enough  in   us  to  start  a  second  Adam,  incline  our 

O  * 

party  to  think  more  of  supper  and  bed,  than  of  the  biggest  trees 
nature  can  produce.  These  comforts,  first-class,  are  found  at  the 
Big-Tree  Hotel,  and  for  a  summer  resort  one  can  spend  weeks 
very  pleasantly  there.  Daylight  at  4.30  A.  M.  shone  through 
the  green  arches  with  a  new  and  wondrous  beauty,  and  we 
awoke  to  the  contemplation  of  a  new  world,  another  creation  as 
it  were,  where  nature  seems  to  have  proceeded  on  a  special 
plan,  too  cyclopean  for  the  common  world  outside. 

Of  course,  the  first  object  for  to-day  is  the  great  fallen  tree 
and  stump,  the  latter  now  covered  with  a  handsome  summer- 
house,  and  fitted  up  as  a  pavilion  for  dancing.     On  the  Fourth 
of  July  a  cotillon  party  of  thirty-two  persons  danced  upon  the 
17 


258 


THE  "BUTT  CUT. 


stump,  and  had  abundant  room  for  the  musicians  and  a  dozen 
spectators.  The  tree,  as  it  stood,  was  302  feet  in  hight,  and  96 
feet  in  circumference,  3  feet  from  the  ground.  But  there  is  a 
little  of  the  "  brag  "  in  this  measurement,  as  most  of  these  trees 
spread  greatly  near  the  ground,  and  do  not  assume  a  symmetri- 
cal and  tree-like  shape  before  reaching  the  height  of  10  feet  or 
more.  The  stump  has  a  surface  25  feet  in  diameter,  to  which 
must  be  added  3  feet  in  a  state  of  nature  for  the  bark,  which 

was  18  inches  thick, 
giving  a  total 
diameter  of  28  feet. 
Five  men  were 
twenty  days  in  fell- 
ing it — a  great  piece 
of  vandalism,  nay 
of  sacrilege,  in  my 
humble  opinion. 
But,  after  due  con- 
sideration the  pro- 
prietors concluded 
that  the  ends  of 
science — particu- 
larly the  science  of 
pecuniary  transfer 
— would  be  more 
fully  secured  by 
sending  the  bark 
and  sections  of  the 

AUGUR-HOLES   THROUGH   THE  ORIGINAL   BIG 

TREE  (SHOWING  HOW  IT  WAS  FELLED).       tree  to  the  Eastern 

States  and  to  Eu- 
rope for  inspection ;  and  it  was  not  till  this  was  done  that  the 
public,  generally,  were  quite  convinced  of  the  existence  of  such 
wonders.  The  work  was  done  with  long  augurs  boring  it  off 
little  by  little;  but  when  entirely  severed,  such  was  the  perfect 
plumb  of  trunk  and  branches,  that,  to  the  amazement  of  spec- 
tators, the  tree  merely  settled  down  and  still  stood,  as  if  refusing, 
conscious  of  its  majesty,  to  bow  to  human  endeavors.  Vast 


LARGE   FIGURES.  259 

wedges  were  then  inserted  on  the  northern  side  and  driven 
little  by  little  till,  heaved  beyond  the  line  of  gravity,  the 
mighty  growth  came  crashing  to  the  ground.  It  would  seem 
that  nature  must  have  yielded  an  audible  groan  at  this  desecra- 
tion. 

A  bowling  alley  was  constructed  upon  the  upper  portion  of 
the  trunk,  but  not  proving  remunerative,  has  been  removed. 
The  "butt  cut"  of  the  tree  lies  as  it  fell,  the  top  reached  by 
means  of  a  ladder;  then  a  large  portion  is  gone,  sawn  out  in 
foot  sections  and  transported  Eastward.  The  "  Father  of  the 
Forest,"  largest  of  all  the  trees,  is  also  prostrate  and  slightly 
buried  in  the  ground,  having  evidently  fallen  many  years 
before  the  Grove  was  dis- 
covered (1852).  Its  circum- 
ference at  the  base  is  110 
feet;  thence  it  is  200  feet 
to  the  first  branch,  the  tree 
hollow  all  that  distance,  and 
through  this  tube  I  can 
easily  walk  erect.  Unlike 
the  other,  it  was  evidently 
much  decayed,  and  was 
broken  by  its  fall,  besides 
breaking  down  ^several  THE  FALLEN  MONARCH. 

smaller   trees   with   it.      By 

the  stumps  of  these  it  is  known  to  have  been  at  least  420  feet 
in  hight,  and  may  have  been  considerably  more.  Near  its 
base  is  a  never- failing  spring  of  clear,  cold  water. 

"The  Mother  of  the  Forest,"  so  named  from  two  round 
protuberances  on  one  side,  is  the  largest  tree  now  standing. 
The  bark  has  been  removed  to  the  hight  of  116  feet,  but 
without  it  the  tree  is  84  feet  in  circumference  at  the  base. 
Twenty  feet  from  the  base  it  measures  round  69  feet,  and  thus 
on,  decreasing  with  elegant  regularity  to  the  hight  of  321  feet, 
making  this  the  most  symmetrical  of  all  the  larger  trees.  And 
for  this  reason  its  vastness  is  seldom  appreciated  at  first  view. 
In  such  fine  harmony,  the  sense  of  immensity  is  lost.  It  is 


260 


"MOTHER  OF  THE  FOREST." 


not  until  one  has  rounded  the  tree  many  times  and  viewed  it 
from  different  points  that  one  comprehends  all  its  grandeur. 
The  bark  was  from  ten  to  twenty-four  inches  thick,  bulging 
outwardly  in  a  succession  of  ellipsoids  around  the  trunk.  Ten 
feet  from  the  base  this  tree  would  "square"  twenty  feet,  to  use 
a  sawyer's  phrase ;  and  taking  this  with  a  length  of  320  feet, 
gradual  decline,  a  practical  lumberman  of  our  party  estimates 

that  it  must  contain 
at  least  five  hundred 
and  twenty  thousand 
feet  of  sound  inch 
lumber !  This  seems 
utterly  incredible,  but 
the  rules  of  mensur- 
ation show  it  beyond 
a  doubt.  Next  in 
order,  as  in  interest, 
is  (or  are)  the  "  Hus- 
band and  Wife/'  a 
noble  pair  of  saplings, 
each  60  feet  around 
the  base,  and  250  in 
hight,  growing  near 
and  bending  lovingly 
to  wa  rd  each  other 
till  their  upper  bran- 
ches are  completely 
mingled  in  a  dense 
THE  PIONEER'S  CABIN:  u ROOM  FOR  wooden  and  leafy 

TWELVE  INSIDE."  .    1T       r,i 

mass — a    tall,    lithe, 

well-proportioned,  graceful  pair,  supporting  a  heavy  progeny 
of  branch  and  leaf,  sufficient  to  shade  an  assemblage  of  five 
thousand  persons. 

Near  by  is  the  "Burnt  Tree,"  prostrate  and  hollow,  into 
which  one  can  ride  on  horseback  for  sixty  feet.  Across  the 
roots  it  measures  thirty-nine  feet,  and  from  all  indications  its 
hight  must  have  been  over  three  hundred  feet.  The  "Horse- 


NATURE   OF   THE   TRESS. 


261 


SOMETHING  OF  A   STUMP. 

back  ride "  is  also  hollow  its  entire  length  ;  in  the  narrowest 
part  the  interior  is  twelve  feet  wide,  and  can  be  traversed  from 
end  to  end.  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin "  is  a  hollow  stump  in 
which  twenty-five  persons  can  be  comfortably  seated ;  while 
near  by  the  "Three  Sisters  ""stand  side  by  side  in  graceful 
amplitude,  each  twenty  feet  thick  and  200  feet  high,  of  exact 
proportions  and^equidistant  from  base  to  crown. 

The  trees  are  mammoth  redwoods,  assigned  by  botanists  to  a 
class  known  as  Sequoia  gigantea.  *En  an  elaborate  description, 
written  soon  after  discovery,  a  patriotic  English  scientist  chris- 
tened them  the  Wellmgtonia  gigantea.  This  roused  the  jealous 
ire  of  a  California  savan,  who,  in  a  ludicrous  spasm  of  national 
pride,  gave  them  the  specific  title  of  Washingtonia  gigan- 
tea. But  by  common  consent  they  are  now  known  by  the 
name  first  mentioned.  Like  all  other  timber  of  the  Taxodium 
genus,  they  are  but  little  subject  to  decay,  and  the  most  im- 
paired of  the  fallen  trunks  has  undoubtedly  been  prostrate  for 
many  hundred  years.  In  this  dry  air,  at  an  elevation  of  three 


262 


AGE   OF   THE   TREES. 


thousand  feet  above  sea  level,  with  drought  in  summer  and 
snow  in  winter,  and  only  the  light  ruins  of  spring  and  autumn, 
decay  requires  long  periods,  compared  to  which  a  human  life 
seems  practically  naught. 

We  have  gazed  long  upon  these  botanic  marvels,  and  still 
new  beauties  appear  at  each  new  study ; 
but  it  is  when  we  come  to  estimate  their 
age  that  amazement  reaches  its  climax,  and 
we  can  truly  compare  the  duration  of  these 
monstrous  trunks  with  man's  brief  period 
of  growth  and  decay.     The  trees  of  this 
genus  require  twenty  years  to  increase  one 
inch  in  diameter;  the  bark  twice  as  long 
to  gain  the  thickness  of  a  knife  blade;  the 
timber,  in  a  drying  air,  will  not  perceptibly 
decay  within  the  lifetime  of  man.    By  these 
and  many  other  signs,  more  than  all 
by  the  number  of  annular  rings,  it  is 
demonstrated     that 
the    largest    of    the 
Sequoias  must   be 
three  thousand  years 
old.     Think    of    it; 
outlasting   ninety 
average    generations 
of    men.     And    the 
fallen  ones  are  prob- 
ably   a    thousand 
years  older. 

When  our  fore- 
fathers landed  on 
Plymouth  Rock  the 
largest  of  these  had  long  attained  its  growth,  and  was  harden- 
ing into  solid  maturity.  For  how  many  centuries  did  the 
Indian  contend  with  grizzly  bear  and  mountain  lion  through 
these  shades,  before  the  pale  face  came  to  gaze  with  the  en- 
lightened wonder  of  a  superior  race?  Could  these  whispering 


FIRST  LOG   HUT  IN   MARIPOSA  GROVE. 


STRANGE   COTEMPORARIES.  263 

bouglis  before  my  chamber  window,  now  sighing  in  the  evening 
breeze  of  the  Sierras,  but  drop  intelligible  words,  what  of 
primeval  history  might  they  not  tell — of  combats  of  savage 
beasts  or  equally  savage  men.  When  Magna  Charta  was 
signed,  these  giants  were  already  of  size  sufficient  to  have 
astonished  all  the  Barons  at  Runnymede,  familiar  as  they 
doubtless  were  with  the  great  oaks  of  Boscobel  and  Epping 
Forest.  When  Rome  yielded  to  the  Goth,  the  "  Father  of  the 
Forest,"  grown  old  and  decrepid,  was  tottering  to  his  fall. 
When  Rome  was  founded,  the  "Burnt  Tree"  was  still  a  vig- 
orous sapling,  rearing  his  head  two  hundred  feet  upon  a  body 
of  ten  feet  diameter,  and  when  the  Saviour  bowed  his  head  on 
Calvary,  we  may  well  believe  that  here  a  mighty  forest  groaned 
and  shuddered  in  the  throes  of  universal  nature.  Nay,  when 
Solomon  sent  to  Lebanon  for  cedars  and  Hiram  rafted  him 
"curious  woods"  from  Tyre,  had  navigation  so  far  extended, 
he  might  here  have  found  solid  redwoods  of  size  sufficient  for 
the  heaviest  beams  of  the  "House  of  God."  When  Homer 
sung  of  Troy,  this  grove  was  already  a  wonder,  and  when 
Horace  delighted  himself  in  the  Sabine  Woods,  here  were 
trunks  to  put  to  shame  the  largest  oaks  of  the  Apennines. 

And  yet  these  are  not  the  oldest  trees  in  the  world.  In 
Africa  there  grows  a  species  of  mimosa  which,  by  the  same 
indications,  is  proved  to  be  six  thousand  years  old.  A  sapling 
when  Adam  was  a  stripling !  There  seems  to  be  no  satisfactory 
theory  to  account  for  their  growth  here.  Climate  and  fertile 
soil  may  have  done  much ;  but  I  incline  to  the  belief  that  they 
are  a  sort  of  relict  of  the  age  when  all  vegetation  was  gigantic ; 
as  one  age  of  geology  must  have  subsided  with  easy  grades  to 
the  next,  we  may  have  here  tlie  last  vegetable  survivors  of  the 
age  just  before  us,  and  after  their  fall,  no  more  big  trees.  Eight 
miles  south  of  here  is  another  collection,  known  as  the  South 
Grove,  and  containing  thirteen  hundred  and  eighty  trees  in 
close  order,  averaging  larger  than  these,  but  the  largest  a  foot 
or  two  less  than  the  largest  here.  But  we  have  seen  enough 
for  the  present  to  fill  the  mind  with  images  for  years,  and  weary 
us  in  conjecture.  Time  presses,  and  with  to-morrow's  earliest 
light  we  are  off  for  Yosemite. 


264 


KOUTE   TO   YOSEMJTE. 


From  the  Big  Trees  we  take  the  new  or  mountain  road  to 
Yosemite;  instead  of  going  back  to  the  valley  we  start  directly 
southward  across   Table   Mountain,  the  Stanislaus,  Tuolumne 
and  smaller  streams.     This  route  takes  in  the  mining  and  fruit 
region,  and  a  specimen  of  all  that  has 
made  California  famous,  embracing  more 
of  nature's  curiosities  than  any  I   have 
ever  traveled.    The  Sierras  have  a  general 
course  from  north  to  south,  and  a  hight 


BRIDAL   VEIL   FALL. 


of  from  ten  to  fourteen  thousand  feet ;  and  from  them  a  succes- 
sion of  rivers  put  out  westward,  each  marking  in  its  upper 
part  the  course  of  a  mountain  gorge  or  clear-cut  canon,  widen- 
ing westward  to  a  broad  valley  bounded  by  slopes  and  foot- 
hills of  genial  clime  and  rare  fertility.  Between  this  and  the 


THE   CORRECT   PRONUNCIATION.  265 

ocean  is  the  Coast  Kange,  nearly  half  the  hight  of  the  Sierras, 
shutting  off  the  sea  breeze  and  accompanying  fog;  and  be- 
tween these  lies  the  great  interior  valley,  which  is,  in  fact, 
California,  or  four-fifths  of  it.  Hence  the  State  has  three 
grand  divisions  of  climate:  First,  the  Coast  climate,  damp  all 
the  year  from  ocean  mists,  cool  in  summer  and  warm  in  winter, 
with  perennial  pastures;  second,  the  interior  climate,  hot  and 
dry  in  summer  and  warm  and  wet  in  winter,  and  lastly  the 
mountain- valley  climate.  Of  thirty  different  valleys  opening 
out  of  the  Sierras,  each  has  a  specific  climate,  from  those  with 
four  months7  snow  to  those  where  ice  is  never  formed.  Our 
southward  route,  one-third  the  way  up  the  Sierras,  involves 
great  variety,  taking  us  across  deep  gorge  and  abrupt  gulch, 
varied  by  side  canon  and  fertile  valley.  We  come  back  on  the 
Big  Tree  road  as  far  as  Vallecito,  where  we  change  to  a  light 
wagon  to  cross  Table  Mountain  and  the  Stanislaus. 

Speaking  of  special  places,  the  various  names  herein  used 
are  either  Spanish  or  Indian,  and  pronounced  as  follows  :  Stan- 
is-lowh,  Yal-le-cee-to,  Tu-o^-un-ny,  Mo-M-lnn-ny,  Gar-ro-ta, 
Man-zan-ee-ta,  Cap-i-ta,  Mer-ceec/,  and  Yo-sem-i-ta. 

After  passing  Table  Mountain  we  corne  upon  a  precipice 
where  the  eye,  glancing  downward  two  thousand  feet,  perceives 
the  Stanislaus  like  a  narrow  silvery  band  flowing  down  a  rocky 
trough.  But  how  shall  we  reach  it,  is  the  question ;  for  the 
sides  of  this  forbidding  gulch  stand  at  a  threatening  angle  of 
at  least  seventy  degrees,  and,  except  the  sharp  turn  to  our  left, 
where  the  road  seems  to  disappear  in  the  rock,  there  is  no 
trace  of  passage.  In  fact  the  stage  road  is  but  a  series  of 
grooves  cut  zigzag  into  the  solid  rock  or  mixed  earth  and 
boulders :  first  to  the  right  a  hundred  yards  or  so,  then  where 
a  flat  projection  affords  a  turn,  the  same  to  the  left,  then  right 
and  left  alternate,  a  series  of  monstrous  Zs  with  track  ten  feet 
wide- and  grade  of  one  foot  in  four,  reducing  the  seventy-degree 
angle  of  the  mountain  side  to  a  series  of  passable  rocky  inclines. 
Down  this  combination  of  dips,  spurs,  angles,  and  sinuosities 
the  driver  takes  us  at  full  trot,  with  all  lines  taut  and  foot  on 
brake,  ready  to  check  at  a  moment's  notice;  for  an  instant 


266  ON   THE  STANISLAUS. 

moderating  to  a  walk  as  we  make  the  outward  turn  on  some 
rocky  flat,  then  loosing  his  team  to  a  full  run  as  we  shoot  into 
the  inward  grooves,  the  coach  bounding  over  boulders  or  re- 
acting from  the  stone  bulwarks  which  line  the  most  dangerous 
places.  We  cringe  and  close  our  eyes  in  many  places,  or  cling 
to  the  side  of  the  coach,  half  ashamed  of  the  fear  our  acts 
betray ;  but  before  we  can  question  or  exclaim  a  dozen  times, 
we  are  at  the  bottom  and  ready  to  ferry  the  Stanislaus.  The 
narrow  band,  as  seen  from  above,  has  widened  to  a  considerable 
river,  now  quite  low ;  but  in  winter  and  spring  the  melting 
snow  from  the  notched  hills  six  thousand  feet  above,  swells  this 
stream  to  a  destructive  torrent,  rising  fifty  feet  above  its  present 
level.  On  the  south  side  another  mountain-grooved  road  leads 
up  twenty-five  hundred  feet  to  the  divide  between  the  Stanis- 
laus and  Tuolumne.  No  running  here,  but  with  slow  steps  the 
steaming  horses  drag  us  along,  and  we  lounge  back  over  the 
coach  seats,  gazing  alternately  at  frowning  cliffs  above  and  the 
river  sinking  in  dim  perspective  below.  Half  way  up  our 
intelligent  driver  stops  to  point  out,  down  a  side  gulch,  the 
cabin  where  Bret  Harte  lived  when  he  wrote  his  first  notable 
piece,  "  The  Row  upon  the  Stanislaus."  Written  as  a  mere 
local  amusement,  and  tossed  about  from  camp  to  camp,  it  has 
since  become  famous,  and  the  manuscript  is  carefully  preserved 
in  the  archives  of  the  district.  No  wonder  that  California  is 
producing  a  new  race  of  original  poets;  for,  surely,  if  a  man 
have  the  poetic  instinct,  this  clime  and  scenery  will  bring  it 
out  in  tropic  luxuriance,  and  cause  his  genius  to  put  forth  won- 
drous growths  of  freshness  and  quaint  originality.  This  society, 
these  scenes  and  this  clime — Italy  and  Switzerland  combined — 
are  the  true  home  of  poetry  and  romance. 

Two  hours  of  toil  bring  us  to  the  summit  and  thence  down 
a  barren  hollow  a  sudden  turn  reveals  an  oval  valley  of  rare 
beauty,  in  the  midst  of  which  is  the  pretty  town  of  Columbia, 
fourteen  miles  from  where  we  changed  coaches.  Here  we  enter 
the  great  region  of  placer  and  drift  mining,  once  alive  with 
twenty  thousand  miners  and  musical  with  the  hum  of  an 
exciting  and  curious  industry.  For  six  miles  we  run  among 


MINING   DITCHES.  267 

washed  out  placers,  beds  of  "  tailings"  and  "poor  dirt;"  wind 
around  sluice-boxes,  or  cross  ditches  which  lead  in  the  water 
from  a  main  canal  which  begins  fifty  miles  up  the  Stanislaus. 
At  intervals  all  day  we  encounter  the  great  ditch  of  the  "  Union 
Water  Company,"  sometimes  winding  along  the  mountain  side 
in  rocky  flumes,  sometimes  passing  beneath  us  in  deep  cuts 
through  narrow  ridges,  and  as  often  far  above  our  heads  in  mid- 
air aqueducts — carried  on  trestlework  for  hundreds  of  feet  across 
a  rocky  hollow — to  me  a  curiosity  almost  as  great  as  any  in  the 
scenery.  This  ditch,  built  by  an  incorporated  company  at  an 
expense  of  two  million  dollars,  begins  at  the  very  head  of  the 
Stanislaus,  where  that  stream  is  formed  by  affluents  from  the 
melting  snows  of  the  Sierras.  It  is  sixty  miles  in  length, 
winding  a  devious  course  to  preserve  its  level,  along  the  moun- 
tains and  through  gorges  down  to  the  foothills ;  furnishes  water 
to  a  hundred  mining  camps,  and  at  last,  after  being  used,  col- 
lected, cleared  in  reservoirs  and  used  again  half  a  dozen  times, 
its  water,  yellow  with  the  refuse  of  pay  dirt  or  red  with  iron 
dust,  spreads  in  a  dozen  irrigating  streams  upon  the  lower 
valley.  Careful  study  to  select  the  route,  skilful  engineering 
to  lay  it  out,  economy  of  space  and  material,  perseverance  and 
capital — all  spurred  on  by  the  love  of  gold — combined  to  pro- 
duce the  work. 

Mining  here  began  with  the  "  rocker,"  many  of  which  we 
see  even  now  rotting  along  the  gulches ;  next  came  the  "  long 
torn  "  which  shares  the  same  fate,  and  lastly  was  introduced 
"piping"  and  complete  hydraulic  mining.  Little  by  little 
this  great  industry  has  passed  away;  the  works  are  fallen  to 
decay;  the  placers  are  mostly  worked  out;  three-fourths  of  the 
mining  camps  are  abandoned,  with  picks  and  "long  toms" 
lying  among  rocks  and  debris,  and  California  from  an  annual 
production  of  forty  millions  in  gold  has  sunk  to  half  that 
amount.  "Ranching"  came  next,  and  all  this  industry  is  not 
lost;  the  flumes  and  water  are  used  for  irrigation,  without  which 
the  smaller  vegetables  and  fruits  are  not  a  perfect  success. 
Still  mining  continues  in  many  places,  enough  for  us  to  witness 
the  method.  Along  the  rocks  or  columns  of  dirt  left  for  the 


268 


PLACER   MINING. 


purpose,  extend  piping-troughs,  and  the  sluice-boxes  into  which, 
running  full  of  water,  the  miners  shovel  the  auriferous  dirt; 

the  collecting  boxes 
are  lined  on  the  bot- 
tom with  "cleats" 
into  which  the 
gold  falls  by  its 
greater  specific 
gravity,  while  the 
dirt  is  washed 
away.  Even  thus 
did  the  Colchic 
miners  of  three 
thousand  years  ago 
bury  the  fleeces  of 
sheep  in  streams 
flowing  the  golden 
sands  of  Pactolus; 
and  the  "  voyage 
of  Jason  and  the 
Argonauts "  is  no 
doubt  a  poetic 
account  of  the 
"49-ers"  of  Greece, 
who  went  for  the 
"Golden  Fleece" 
and  came  home 
shorn. 

Six  miles  through 
old  mines  bring  us 
to  Sonora,  where 
we  change  gladly 
to  a  "Concord 

CATHEDRAL   ROCKS.  COacll."     ^  This   Val- 

ley  opening  to  the 

southwest,  with  an  Italian  clime,  is  glorified  by  flowers  of  all 
hues.     Here  we  see  giant  oleanders,   fifteen   feet   high,  which 


SONORA.  269 

grow  out  doors  all  the  year,  and  gardens  excelling  the  utmost 
flights  of  my  fancy.  Apples,  peaches,  pears,  apricots,  figs, 
damsons,  grapes,  and  quinces,  we  see  growing  luxuriantly  in 
the  same  inclosure,  many  now  ripe  and  affording  most  grate- 
ful refreshment  to  our  heated  excursionists.  All  along  the 
route  to  Yosemite  fruit  is  abundant  and  cheap — all  one  can  eat 
for  ten  cents — growing  even  to  within  half  a  day's  staging 
of  the  valley. 

But  here  this  beauty  is  brief.  Right  beside  these  blooming 
gardens,  right  up  against  the  walls,  are  worked  out  mines, 
hundreds  of  acres  of  bare  boulders  in  beds,  all  the  soil  "piped" 
away  in  search  of  the  "pay  dirt/7  which  lies  below  the  soil  and 
upon  the  rocks.  A  massive  brick  church  stands  in  the  south 
part  of  the  town,  around  it  lies  an  acre  of  ground  dotted  with 
tombstones,  the  city  grave-yard,  and  up  to  the  very  walls  of 
the  inclosure  the  dirt  is  washed  away  down  to  an  unsightly 
mass  of  bare,  gray  rocks,  leaving  the  church-yard  by  rare 
grace  perched  upon  an  eminence  ten  feet  above  the  placer  flats. 
There  the  rude  forefathers  of  this  mountain  hamlet — dead 
miners  by  'scores — lie  in  "pay  dirt" — fit  resting  place — and 
their  living  companions  seem  to  have  barely  respected  their  last 
repose.  Over  all  this  region,  with  rare  exceptions,  is  a  peculiar 
air  of  abandon  and  decay;  worked-out  placers,  deserted  cabins, 
dry  flumes  and  sluice-boxes  falling  to  pieces  look  as  though 
the  site  were  haunted  by  the  ghost  of  former  prosperity.  Fif- 
teen miles  of  comfortable  staging  in  the  valley  of  the  Tuolumne 
bring  us  to  Chinese  Camp,  originally  settled  by  Mongolians 
working  "old  diggings,"  but  since  mining  gave  place  to  agri- 
culture, settled  by  the  whites.  A  few  hundred  Chinese  remain, 
and  as  we  pass  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  we  note  a  rude  frame 
tent  and  beside  it  a  dozen  China  women  chattering  and  how- 
ling alternately,  and  learn  that  a  sick  Chinaman  has  been 
removed  there  to  die.  These  people  never  allow  one  to  die  in 
their  dwellings  if  possible  to  prevent  it.  When  past  all  hope  the 
sick  man  is  removed  to  a  rude  outhouse,  all  his  bedding  and 
all  clothing  he  has  worn  since  sickness  are  burned,  and,  if 
means  permit,  the  dead  Celestial  is  boxed  air-tight  and  returned 


270 


HIGH    STAGING. 


to  the  Flowery  Kingdom ;  for  it  is  only  from  that  favored  soil 
he  can,  without  long  probation,  rise  at  once  to  the  Happy  West- 
ern Region  of  Low  Chee  and  Taoutse.  Even  then  he  cannot 
become  a  Boodh  and  enjoy  supreme  repose — eternal  nothing- 
ness— until  he  has  undergone  a  thousand  transmigrations  in  the 
bodies  of  horned  cattle,  beasts,  and  creeping  things.  All  this 
to  sink  at  last — soul-frighting  thought — in  the  chilling  waves 
of  annihilation ! 

At  Chinese  Camp  we 
change  again  to  the 
stoutest  wagon  manu- 
factured ;  for,  we  are 
kindly  assured,  all  that 
has  gone  before  is  but 
child's  play  compared 
to  the  racking  we  are 
to  suffer  between  this 
and  T  a  m  a  r  a  ck  FJ  at. 
Fifteen  miles  of  stony 
up-grade  bring  us  to 
Garrote,  which  we  reach 
at  9  P.M.,  and  sink 
gladly  to  repose.  It 
seems  that  we  have  but 
closed  our  eyes  to  half- 
forget  in  sleep  the  beau- 
ties or  toils  of  the  way, 

when  at  3  A.M.  the  call  comes  to  take  a  fresh  start.  We  take 
the  invariable  "eye-opener"  of  California  white  wine,  cooled 
with  snow  from  the  Sierras,  used  here  instead  of  ice,  and  after 
a  hasty  breakfast  are  off  into  a  dense  forest,  the  daylight  break- 
ing grandly  through  the  green  arches,  and  casting  great  scallops 
of  light  and  shade  in  fine  effect  to  cheer  the  still  sleepy  travel- 
ers. We  are  out  of  the  foothills,  and  upon  the  spurs  of  the 
mountains.  The  streams  are  clear  as  crystal  and  delightfully 
cold,  for  we  are  far  above  the  mining  districts  and  near  their 
gnowy  sources. 


A   NATIVE   OF   THE   VALLEY. 


NATURE  S    MUSIC. 


271 


We  have  four  of  the  stoutest  mountain  horses  kept  especially 
for  this  stage.  A  few  scrub  oaks  of  a  foot  or  more  in  thickness 
are  the  only  common  timber  we  see,  and  vast  forests  of  red- 
wood and  sugar  pine,  from  two  to  eight  feet  in  thickness,  shade 
the  way.  The  air  is  delightful.  The  dust  and  heat  of  below 
give  way  to  a  cool  breeze  from  the  cliffs;  for  we  are  half  way 
up  the  Sierras,  and 
this  giant  vegeta- 
tion wards  off  the 
fervid  rays  of  a 
California  sun.  At 
every  pause  we  hear 
a  strange,  solemn, 
murmur  from  far 
above  our  heads,  a 
gentle  swell  and 
rustle  as  the  moun- 
tain breeze  thrills 
the  tree-tops,  like 
the  far  off  diapason 
of  a  monstrous  or- 
gan, or  a  gentle  tre- 
molo stealing  upon 
the  senses  with  a 
music  all  the  more 
impressive  that  it 
cannot  be  analyzed 
or  described.  Mr. 
Book  waiter  com- 
pares the  scenery  to 
that  of  a  Florida 
forest  of  a  winter 

morning.  One  by  one  all  those  who  started  with  us  have 
stopped  for  a  few  days'  rest  at  Murphy's,  Yallecito,  or  Sonora  ; 
but,  being  old  travelers,  we  have  passed  on,  and  to-day  have 
the  coach  to  ourselves. 

Before  noon  we  are  in  the  edge  of  the  Tuolurane  Grove,  and 


EL   CAPITAN,   3300  FEET  HIGH. 


272  TIMID   TOURISTS. 

the  driver  having  made  good  time,  gives  frequent  halts  for  us 
to  look  about  and  gather  curiosities.  Many  trees  are. as  large 
as  the  average  at  Calaveras,  but  none  within  less  than  two  or 
three  feet  of  the  largest  there.  Over  all  this  part  of  the  Sierras, 
probably  forty  miles  each  way,  the  timber  is  immense.  .We 
drive  between  two  trees,  each  twenty  feet  in  thickness.  We 
find  one  stump  forty  feet  high  and  twenty-six  feet  thick,  and 
hundreds  scattered  for  miles  along  the  way  from  ten  to  eighteen 
feet  thick,  and  from  two  hundred  to  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet 
high.  If  the  traveler  does  not  wish  to  make  the  diversion  by 
Calaveras  Grove,  he  can  still  enjoy  the  sight  of  tall  timber 
here,  on  the  direct  route  to  YosemiteC  Thirty-seven  miles 
from  Garrote  bring  us  to  Tamarack  Flat,  the  highest  point  on 
the  road,  the  end  of  staging,  and  no  wonder.  The  remaining 
five  miles  down  into  the  valley  must  be  made  on  horseback. 

While  transferring  baggage — very  little  is  allowed — to  pack- 
mules,  the  guide  and  driver  amuse  us  with  accounts  of  former 
tourists,  particularly  of  Anna  Dickinson,  who  rode  astride  into 
the  valley,  and  thereby  demonstrated  her  right  to  vote,  drink 
"cocktails,"  bear  arms,  and  work  the  roads,  without  regard  to 
age,  sex,  or  previous  condition  of  servitude.  They  tell  us  with 
great  glee  of  Olive  Logan,  who,  when  told  she  must  ride  thus 
into  the  valley,  tried  practising  on  the  back  of  the  coach  seats, 
and  when  laughed  at  for  her  pains,  took  her  revenge  by  sav- 
agely abusing  everything  on  the  road.  When  Mrs.  Cacly 
Stan  ton  was  here  a  few  weeks  since,  she  found  it  impossible  to  fit 
herself  to  the  saddle,  averring  she  had  not  been  in  one  for  thirty 
years.  Our  accomplished  guide,  Mr.  F.  A.  Brightman,  saddled 
seven  different  mules  for  her  (she  admits  the  fact  in  her  report), 
and  still  she  would  not  risk  it,  and  "while  the  guides  laughed 
behind  their  horses,  and  even  the  mules*  winked  knowingly  and 
shook  their  long  ears  comically,  still  she  stood  a  spectacle  for 
men  and  donkeys."  In  vain  the  skilful  Brightman  assured 
her  he  had  piloted  five  thousand  persons  down  that  fearful 
incline,  and  not  an  accident.  She  would  not  be  persuaded,  and 
walked  the  entire  distance,  equal  to  twenty  miles  on  level 
ground.  And  shall  this  much-enduring  woman  still  be  denied 


FIRST    VIEW.'  273 

a  voice  in  the  government  of  the  country  ?  Perish  the  thought. 
With  all  these  anecdotes  I  began  to  feel  nervous  myself,  for  I 
am  but  an  indifferent  rider,  and  when  I  observed  the  careful 
strapping,  and  saw  that  my  horse  was  enveloped  in  a  perfect 
network  of  girths,  cruppers  and  circingles,  I  inquired  diffi- 
dently, "Is  there  no  danger  that  this  horse  will  turn  a  somer- 
set with  me  over  some  steep  point?"  "Oh,  no,  sir,"  rejoined 
the  cheerful  Brightman,  "  he  is  bitterly  opposed  to  it." 

With  all  set  and  everything  tightly  "  cinched,"  we  took  the 
start  with  guide  in  front,  finding  the  first  mile  and  a  half  to 
Prospect  Peak  not  particularly  difficult.  A  sudden  turn  brings 
us  in  view  of  the  valley,  but  little  is  to  be  seen  as  yet;  then  we 
emerge  from  the  timber  upon  a  shelving  rock,  and  the  guide 
stops  for  us  to  take  our  first  view  at  Prospect  Peak.  We 
walked  out  upon  the  rock,  which  becomes  level  as  we  near  the 
edge,  with  a  feeling  of  disappointment;  but  suddenly,  when  far 
enough,  to  see  below,  we  paused  and  trembled.  Astonishment 
and  awe  kept  us  silent  for  a  moment.  At  our  feet  yawned  a 
chasm  bounded  on  this  side  by  a  precipice  with  sheer  descent 
of  near  two  thousand  feet;  on  the  other  a  mist-enveloped  cas- 
cade poured  from  hights  so  high  and  dim,  that  to  our  eyes  it 
seemed  tumbling  from  the  clouds.  Far,  far  below,  the  Merced 
foamed  through  the  rocky  gateway  which  forms  the  outlet  of 
the  valley,  while  the  whole  wall  below  us  seemed  fringed  with 
pines,  jutting  from  every  crevice,  and  growing  apparently  straight 
into  the  air  from  the  solid  wall  of  rock.  The  cliff,  the  falls, 
the  frowning  rocks,  the  wondrous  gorge,  all  seemed  to  say, 
"Uncover  in  the  presence  of  the  Lord." 

We  turn  again  to  the  left  into  a  sort  of  stairway  in  the  moun- 
tain side,  and  cautiously  tread  the  stony  defile  downward  ;  at 
places  over  loose  boulders,  at  others  around  or  over  the  points 
of  shelving  rock,  where  one  false  step  would  send  horse  and 
rider  a  mangled  mass  two  thousand  feet  below,  and  more  rarely 
over  ground  covered  with  bushes  and  grade  moderate  enough 
to  afford  a  brief  rest.  It  is  impossible  to  repress  fear.  Every 
nerve  is  tense;  the  muscles  involuntarily  make  ready  for  a 
spring,  and  even  the  bravest  lean  timorously  toward  the  moun- 
18 


274  A    TEKKIBLE    DESCENT. 

tain  side  and  away  from  the  cliff,  with  foot  loose  in  stirrup  and 
eye  alert,  ready  for  a  spring  in  case  of  peril.  The  thought  is 
vain  :  should  the  horse  go,  the  rider  would  infallibly  go  with 
him.  And  the  poor  brutes  seem  to  fully  realize  their  danger 
and  ours,  as  with  wary  steps  and  tremulous  ears,  emitting 
almost  human  sighs,  with  more  than  brute  caution  they  delib- 
erately place  one  foot  before  the  other,  calculating  seemingly  at 
each  step  the  desperate  chances  and  intensely  conscious  of  our 
mutual  peril.  Mutual  danger  creates  mutual  sympathy — every- 
thing animal,  everything  that  can  feel  pain,  is  naturally  cow- 
ardly— and  while  we  feel  a  strange  animal  kinship  with  our 
horses,  they  seem  to  express  a  half  human  earnestness  to  assure 
us  that  their  interest  is  our  interest,  and  their  self-preservative 
instinct  in  full  accord  with  our  intellectual  dread.  We  learn 
with  wonder  that  of  all  the  five  thousand  who  have  made  this 
perilous  passage  not  one  has  been  injured — if  injured  be  the 
word,  for  the  only  injury  here  would  be  certain  death.  One  false 
step  and  we  are  gone  bounding  over  rocks,  ricocheting  from 
cliffs,  till  all  semblance  of  humanity  is  lost  upon  the  flat  rock 
below.  Such  a  route  would  be  impossible  to  any  but  those 
mountain-trained  mustangs,  to  whom  a  broken  stone  staircase 
seems  as  safe  as  an  ordinary  macadamized  road. 

At  length  we  reach  a  point  where  the  most  hardy  generally 
dismount  and  walk — two  hundred  feet  descent  in  five  hundred 
feet  progress.  Indeed  half  the  route  will  average  the  descent 
of  an  ordinary  staircase.  Then  comes  a  passage  of  only  mode- 
rate descent  and  terror,  then  another  and  more  terrible  stair- 
way— a  descent  of  four  hundred  feet  in  a  thousand.  I  will  not 
walk  before  and  lead  my  horse,  as  does  our  guide,  but  trail  my 
long  rope  halter  and  keep  him  before, — always  careful  to  keep 
on  the  upper  side  of  him,  springing  from  rock  to  rock,  and 
hugging  the  cliff  with  all  the  ardor  of  a  young  lover.  For  now 
I  am  scared.  All  pretense  of  pride  is  gone,  and  just  the  last 
thing  I  intend  to  risk  is  for  that  horse  to  stumble,  and  in  fall- 
ing strike  me  over  that  fearful  cliff.  At  last  comes  a  gentler 
slope,  then  a  crystal  spring,  dense  grove  and  grass  covered 
plat,  and  we  are  down  into  the  valley.  Gladly  we  take  the 


LEVEL   GROUND   AGAIN. 


275 


SEXTIXEL    KOCK. 


stage,  and  are  whirled  along;  in  the  gathering  twilight.  To  onr 
right  Bridal  Vail  Fall,  shedding  a  brilliant  sheen  in  the  twi- 
light;  further  up  Inspiration  Point,  and  to  the  left  El  Capital) 
rearing  his  bare,  bald  head  three  thousand  three  hundred  feet 
above  us,  beautifully,  purely  gray,  in  clear  outline  against  the 
rosy  sky.  Darkess  shuts  out  all  beauty  by  the  time  we  reach 
Hatchings'  Hotel,  and  we  gladly  sink  to  rest  with  little  thought 
of  the  wonderland  we  are  in 


l>76 


WONDER-WOULD. 


THE  YOSEMITE   FALLS.  ' 

We  rise  to  view  a  new  creation — as  it  seems — a  wondrous  rift 
in  the  earth,  a  great  void  five  miles  long  and  one  and  a-half  wide 
in  the  center,  walled  in  by  ever-enduring  granite  three  thousand 
feet  high,  impassable  but  at  a  few  points,  with  rocky,  narrow 
outlet  westward  and  two  sharp  inlets  from  the  eastward,  where 
the  Merced  pours  down  from  snowy  peaks  still  eight  thousand 
feet  higher.  Here  is  a  minor  cosmos,  shut  off  from  the  greater, 


THE   GREAT    FALL.  277 

whore  nature  seems  to  have  proceeded  on  a  more  extensive  plan, 
as  if  determined  to  outdo  all  in  the  outer  world  of  common-place. 
A  forenoon  we  give  to  rest  and  gazing,  for  there  is  enough  to  be 
seen  for  that  time  from  the  porch  of  the  hotel.  After  noon  we 
start  out  northward,  to  the  foot  of  Yosemite  Falls,  one  and 
ii  half  mile  from  us.  The  cliffs  in  front  rise  nearly  three  thou- 
sand feet  above  us,  and  all  along  the  perpendicular  wall  we  see 
the  marks  of  ancient  glaciers  and  waves  wearing  smooth  the 
rocky  face ;  but  above,  where  first  the  peaks  rose  from  the  sea 
of  primal  chaos,  rough  and  frowning  battlements  attest  the  vio- 
lence of  the  rent  which  divided  this  from  the  southern  side. 
About  half  way  up  the  cliff  is  a  small  offset,  where  grows  a 
beautiful  pine,  with  branch  and  foliage  forming  a  perfect  cone, 
seeming  like  the  larger  growth  of  ornamental  shrubbery.  Yet 
that  shrub  is  a  monster  tree,  one  hundred  and  sixty  feet  high, 
and  above  it  the  perpendicular  cliff  is  just  eleven  times  its  hight. 
Go  into  the  forests  of  Ohio  or  Indiana  and  select  the  tallest  tree, 
and  remember  that  the  upper  division  merely  of  Yosemite  Fall 
is  at  least  ten  times  that  hight!  Or  imagine  ten  Niagaras  piled 
one  above  another. 

A  thick  forest  of  pines  and  firs  fills  the  center  of  the  valley, 
and  through  it  we  follow  up  the  bed,  now  almost  dry,  of 
Yosemite  Creek,  the  boulders  increasing  regularly  in  size  as  we 
proceed,  until  at  last  the  way  is  blocked  by  vast  masses  of 
granite,  hurled,  as  in  Titanic  war,  from  the  cliffs  above.  The 
immense  wall  gives  back  leaving  an  inlet  into  the  mountain, 
the  sides  of  which,  like  buttresses,  approach  each  other  at  a 
sharp  angle,  and  down  one  side  of  this  inlet  pours  Yosemite, 
now  shrunk  to  a  mere  rill.  But  in  May  and  June  the  con- 
gealed floods  on  hights  five  thousand  feet  above  are  loosed  and 
fill  the  high  flume  with  a  raging  torrent.  Then  great  liquid 
volumes  fall  from  the  first  hight  sixteen  hundred  feet,  strike 
and  break  to  a  thousand  splintered  streams,  lacing  all  the 
second  fall  for  four  hundred  feet  with  dazzling  lines  of  foam; 
then  gather  in  another  flurne,  take  another  plunge,  and  re- 
bounding from  the  cliff  in  a  million  comminuted  streams,  roar 
into  the  basin  below.  Large  logs  from  the  mountain  forests 


278  A    GENERAL    VIEW. 


NORTH   DOME   AND   ROYAL   ARCHES. 

plunge  a  thousand  feet  without  check  and  splinter  to  fragments, 
but  sometimes  pass  entire  and  with  myriad  tumblings  are  drifted 
far  down  the  plain.  The  three  divisions  of  the  fall  measure 
respectively  sixteen  hundred,  four  hundred  and  thirty-four,  and 
six  hundred  and  thirty-three  feet,  making  the  total  fall  two 
thousand  six  hundred  and  sixty-seven  feet.  Climbing  for  two 
hours  we  reach  the  highest  available  ledge,  inscribe  our  names 
and  return. 

Wearied  out  with  a  day  of  sight-seeing  I  lie  upon  the  porch 
at  Hutch  ings',  gaze  and  think.  To  the  northwest  is  El  Capi- 
tan,  glorified  in  the  soft  moonlight;  opposite  Yosemite  Fall,  to 
the  right  the  Royal  Arches,  over  all  this  wondrous  sky,  and  all 
around  us  monster  battlements  with  shrubby  fringe,  till  we 
seem  to  be  walled  in  far  down  in  the  depths  of  the  earth,  shut 
out  from  human  hope  or  help,  and  must  involuntarily  ask : 
What  if  ancient  order  suddenly  return,  and  these  cliffs  unite  as 
science  tells  us  they  were  once  united. 

But  soon,  as  I  gaze,  all  ether  thoughts  become  absorbed  in 
one;  through  all  my  musing  runs  one  central  vein,  an  all- 
pervading,  oppressive  consciousness  of  time,  the  time  required 
to  produce  all  that  is  before  me.  Ages  seem  compressed  into 
one  moment  of  thought — countless  cycles  of  years  crystalizing 


IMMENSE    TIME. 


279 


their  results  in  my  brain  into  one  instant  of  swift  conception. 
What  ages  of  cosmic  process  were  required  to  bring  about  this 
wondrous  combination  which  I  can  survey  in  one  quick  glance; 
what  infinite  forces  working  silently  in  God's  laboratory  for 
inconceivable  ages  produced  all  this  scene  my  eye  can  sweep 
over  in  ten  seconds.  What 
ages,  what  unending  a3ons  of 
duration — an  immensity  clip- 
ped out  of  eternity — were  re- 
quired to  perfect  this  work. 
Can  the  mind  with  utmost 
stretch  revert  to  a  period 
when  all  was  ethereal,  gase- 
ous ;  when  earth  was  a  nebu- 
lous mass;  when  Cosmos  first 
had  being — then  the  time  re- 
quired for  it  to  become  a 
molten  mass — the  ages  thence 
to  solidity — the  first  crust — 
the  shrinking,  the  ridging, 
the  upheaval ;  then  the  earth- 
quake wave  which  rent  these 
cliffs  asunder;  then  the  con- 
vulsions lasting  through  mil- 
lions of  years,  and  ending  in 
the  mighty  subsidence  in  the 
bottom  of  this  fissure  crevice  ! 
Then  came  the  age  of  ero- 
sion, the  glaciers  successively 
writing  their  history  on  these 
rocky  tablets;  the  ages  of 
wear  required  to  polish  SOUTH  OR  HALF  DOME. 

smooth   these  granite  walls, 

and  symmetrize  the  facings  of  the  cliffs.  At  last  came  the  age 
of  disintegration,  of  mold,  of  soil,  of  growth,  of  animals,  and 
last  of  all  man — the  last  by  all  reasoning  the  shortest. 

And  all  this  is  a  mere  atom  to  Omniscience,  a  tip  upon  the 


280  DREAD    ETERNITY. 

dial-plate  of  eternity  :  this  work  the  littleness  of  Omnipotence. 
Read,  ye  that  murmur  at  what  men  count  slackness;  because 
vengeance  against  an  evil  work  is  not  executed  speedily,  because 
all  seems  as  it  did  in  the  moral  or  material  world — read  in 
these  eternal  walls  that  with  God  there  can  be  no  haste.  Time 
is  no  element  in  Divine  plans.  Duration  has  no  place  in 
Heaven's  problems.  With  him  can  be  neither  past,  present, 
nor  future;  an  eternal  NOW.  From  this  sublime  book  get  a 
faint  idea  of  the  infinite  patience  of  the  Eternal  Mind.  Then, 
from  the  immense  past,  come  faint  conceptions  of  the  future 
eternity,  and  the  mind  shrinks  back  appalled — whose  does  not, 
let  his  hope  or  belief  be  what  it  may? — and  seeks  to  dismiss  the 
thought.  All  these  cycles — a  million  years  to  wear  one  inch 
upon  the  brow  of  El  Capitan — are  but  a  dance  upon  the  dial's 
point  to  the  vast  eternity.  Awe  seizes  us  at  the  thought,  but 
we  cannot  shut  it  out  with  those  scenes  in  view;  and — dread- 
thought — through  all  those  ages,  unending  aeons,  we  must  go 
on,  on,  ox 

"  Through  what  new  changes  must  we  pas>. 
Through  what  varieties  of  untried  being." 

And  through  all  these  changes  we  must  still  think,  still  act, 
still  move,  still  put  sequent  to  antecedent,  still  pursue  some  de- 
finite object,  some  final  end  and  aim.  Let  us  hope  what  we 
may,  let  our  destiny  be  what  it  will — still  our  condition  must 
be  action,  action,  ACTION.  Eternal  motion  without  ceasing. 
Heaven  take  away  the  thought  in  kindness!  I  shrink  from  it 
appalled.  While  feeling  its  weight  I  could  almost  renounce  im- 
mortality. Aye,  give  me,  rather,  give  me  annihilation — eternal 
repose — the  final  heaven  of  the  Boodhists.  But  this  horror  is 
but  for  a  moment.  Reaction  comes,  and  with  it  quiet  and 
the  pleasure  of  rest  after  fatigue.  The  mind  is  exhausted  by 
striving  to  take  in  immensity;  the  eye  is  wearied  with  gazing, 
the  body  with  unwonted  fatigue;  the  soul  swelled  for  hours  by 
lofty  conceptions,  reacts  to  earthly  weakness :  all  clamor  for 
rest  and 

"  Sweet  sleep  knits  up  the  raveled  skein  of  cuiv." 


281 


282  MIRROR    LAKE. 

No,  not  care,  but  rather  that  pain  which  comes  of  excess  in 
ecstasy. 

The  next  day  is  set  for  the  great  excursion  to  Mirror  Lake, 
Nevada  and  Vernal  Falls;  and  at  5  A.M.  the  voice"  of  the 
genial  Hatchings  is  heard  ringing  through  our  chambers  in 
the  distich  with  which  he  rouses  the  sleepy : 

"  Oh,  come  ye  down,  my  noble  nob, 
The  kettle's  singing  on  the  hob, 
The  toast  and  cakes  will  all  be  spoiled, 
And  every  egg  be  over-boiled." 

A  hasty  breakfast,  and  off  for  (lie  most  toilsome  and  yet  most 
enjoyable  day  to  be  spent  in  the  valley.  Saddles  are  carefully 
set  and  mules  "cinched"  with  these  mountain  girths,  eight 
inches  wide,  until  it  seems  they  can  scarcely  breathe;  for  we 
are  to  have  perils  of  water  and  mountain — perils  by  the  way. 
We  cross  the  crystal  Merced  of  deceitful  depth — it  looks  four 
feet  and  is  really  ten — and  lively  with  mountain  trout,  in  front 
of  the  hotel,  and  take  our  way  eastward  up  the  valley,  with 
the  Royal  Arches  to  our  left.  In  some  convulsion  past  the 
granite  has  fallen  from  the  north  side  in  successive  sections  in 
.such  shape  as  to  form  the  likeness  of  five  great  arches,  one 
within  the  other,  half  a  mile  long  from  west  to  east  and  rising 
in  the  center  fifteen  hundred  feet. 

We  found  Mirror  Lake  simply  a  pretty  mountain  tarn  of 
clear  water,  to  my  mind  the  least  of  all  the  wonders  of  Yo- 
semite,  though  greatly  praised.  We  are  assured,  however,  that 
we  saw  it  at  a  most  unpropitious  time.  The  day  was  not  clear 
and  the  water  was  discolored — being  low — by  tamarack  trees  in 
its  source  at  Lake  Tinayah  some  miles  above  and  eastward,  in 
the  very  midst  of  snow-peaks.  Standing  on  the  northern  shore 
we  viewed  reflected  in  the  lake  from  right  to  left,  South  Dome, 
Old  Man  of  the  Mountains,  Clouds  Rest,  Mount  Watkins,  and 
the  Watch  Eye,  all  notable  and  noble  peaks  upon  the  south  side, 
rising  from  two  thousand  to  four  thousand  feet  above  the  cliffs 
that  bound  the  valley.  Crossing  in  a  skiff  to  the  south  side  we 
see  reflected  from  the  north,  Mount  Washington,  Mount  Cal- 
houn.  and  the  far-reaching  wall  of  the  lower  valley.  The  lake 


UP   THE   VALLEY. 


283 


VERNAL  FALLS  ;  350   FEET   HIGH. 

is  a  great  crystal  map  of  all  the  adjacent  hills  and  cliffs,  beautU 
ful  only  because  of  beautiful  surroundings,  not  remarkable  in 
itself,  but  dazzling  by  reflection  of  greater  glories. 

From  Mirror  Lake  we  come  back  on  the  same  trail  a  little 
way,  then  straight  south  across  the  valley  till  we  are  directly 
under  the  southern  cliff  which,  instead  of  being  perpen- 
dicular, here  overhangs  and  seems  momentarily  to  threaten 
destruction;  then  eastward  up  what  may  be  called  the  main 
branch  of  the  Merced  to  the  head  of  the  valley.  The  smaller 
branch  comes  in  from  the  northeast  under  the  shadow  of  the 
North  Dome  and  the  Cap  of  Liberty — the  last  a  wondrous  cone 
rising  directly  from  the  north  cliff,  one  thousand  feet  of  beauti- 


284  CLIMBING    MULE-BACK. 

ful  yellow  and  smooth  rock,  completely  inaccessible.  From  this 
side  the  Merced  plunges  down  from  its  source  in  the  ice- peaks 
by  two  magnificent  cataracts,  Nevada  and  Vernal  Falls,  and  a 
series  of  beautiful  rapids  and  cascades  between  them.  But 
there  is  no  reaching  the  foot  of  the  lower  fall  on  horseback; 
we  are  to  return  by  it  from  above,  down  a  perilous  stairway, 
and  now  must  make  a  wide  detour  to  scale  the  cliff,  or  first 
offset,  which  frowns  two  thousand  feet  above  us. 

No  possible  passage  is  visible  to  our  unaccustomed  eyes; 
the  side  seems  almost  perpend  feu  1  a  r,  and  when  the  guide  tells 
us  we  are  to  "go  up  there/7  pointing  with  his  finger  at  an 
angle  of  eighty  to  a  flat  projecting  peak — seeming  to  our  vision 
half  way  to  the  sky — we  shake  bur  heads  incredulously.  "  But 
I  have  piloted  two  thousand  people  up  there,"  says  the  con- 
fident Brightman,  and  we  are  reassured  and  follow  him.  I 
dare  not  venture  on  a  description ;  even  now  I  can  shut  my 
eyes,  see  it  all,  and  shudder. 

Imagine  the  route  in,  with  all  its  difficulties  doubled,  and 
going  up  instead  of  down,  and  some  faint  idea  may  be  formed. 
Here,  we  are  told,  there  has  been  one  accident.  Three  weeks 
before  a  saddle,  not  carefully  girted,  slipped  back  and  the  mule 
straightway  went  to  "  bucking;"  the  rider  jumped  off  on  the 
upper  side,  and  the  mule  undertook  to  run  down  the  mountain, 
but  soon  lost  his  footing  and  went  rolling  from  rock  to  rock, 
till  ricocheting  one  hundred  feet  from  one  offset,  he  fell  upon 
the  next  flat  with  every  bone  splintered  and  his  flesh  reduced 
to  jelly.  "A  plaguey  good  mule,  too,"  says  Brightman,  pathet- 
ically, "worth  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  any  day;  and  had 
a  first-rate  saddle  on  him  smashed  to  giblets,  not  a  piece  as 
big  as  your  pencil."  This  last  with  a  voice  of  deep  concern,  as 
if  cruel  fate  might  have  spared  the  saddle,  even  if  she  took  the 
mule  and  rider.  Two  hours  of  this  toil  bring  us  upon  the  level 
above  the  Vernal,  and  turning  a  sharp  rocky  point,  we  come  in 
sight  of  Nevada  Falls,  and  in  a  few  moments  are  directly  at  its 
foot — for  here  the  approach  is  easy.  All  that  we  have  seen 
seems  as  nothing  to  this,  the  largest  and  highest  fall  in  one 
body.  Rushing  down  a  rocky  flume  from  hights  four  thousand 


UITI7EJ 


A   SHEET    OF    FOAM. 


oar 

C 


285 


feet  above  and  miles  away,  the  Merced  comes  clear  as  alcohol 
to  the  edge  and  takes  the  first  plunge,  four  hundred  feet  clear; 
then  dashes  against  the  rocks,  and  rebounding  in  comminuted 
foam  of  dazzling 
white,  then  collect- 
ing again  to  a  hun- 
dred tiny  streams, 
it  is  off  at  last  from 
the  rocky  face  in 
filmy  slanting  lines 
of  cloud  and  foam, 
transparent  mists, 
so  delicately  flowing 
downward  that  one 
can  scarcely  say 
they  move.  The 
silvery  sheen  like  a 
hanging  crystal 
web,  is  lifted  by  the 
wind,  swaying  now 
against  the  rocks 
and  now  far  out  over 
the  valley;  then  in  a 
momentary  calm 
falls  back  to  break 
into  a  thousand 
transparent,  fluted 
sections,  creeping, 
gliding  downward 

over  the  rocks  in   ever-unfolding,  ever  re-  ^ 
newing  liquid  lawn,  in  distant  seeming  like 
the  mimic  vails  of  the  spectacular  drama. 

While  we  view  this  scene  with  keen  de- 
light, the  howitzer  is  fired  at  the  Mountain 
House  across   the  gulch.     The  echo   breaks  sharply   upon   us 
from  our  side,  and  returns  from   Clouds   Rest  on  the  north  ; 
then  seems  to  die  away  amid  peaks  and  hollows,  but  suddenly 


NEVADA     FALLS, 
700  FEET  HIGH. 


PI-WY-ACK. 


breaks  again  upon  the  startled  ear,  then  repeats  in  slow  declin- 
ing reports  from  peak,  cliff  and  point,  again  to  renew  and  again 
die  away  in  a  thousand  repetitions  of  splintered  sound.  The 
effect  of  these  sights  upon  different  persons  is  a  curious  study. 
The  noisy  are  still,  the  garrulous  silent,  and  even  the  least 
profound  are  awed  to  a  solemn  reverence  with  something  akin 
to  fear.  With  people  of  deep  emotional  nature  the  eyes  glis- 
ten, the  body  twitches,  and  the  tears  start;  and  one  tourist,  a 

Quaker  lady  from  Philadel- 
phia, in  common  seeming  most 
unmoved  and  impassive,  fell 
upon  her  knees  on  the  rock, 
and  with  mixed  sobs  and  ejacu- 
lations prayed  with  the  earn- 
estness of  an  exhorter,  thank- 
ing God  with  streaming  eyes 
and  broken  voice  for  having 
lived  to  see  this  sight. 

After  a  frugal  dinner  at  the 
Mountain  House — everything 
has  to   be    packed   thither  on 
mules — we  came  down  by  the 
hand-rail  beside  Vernal  Falls, 
while    Brightman   returns  the 
mules  by  the  other  route  as  far 
as  LtiMTis:rv  Rock,  the  first  point  where  we  can 
meet  him.  Piwyack — "cataract  of  diamonds" 
— as  I  he  Ind  ians  call  it,  well  deserves  the  name ; 

DOWX    BY    VER-  i  •    '  -\7  i    17    11 

XAL  FALLS.  though  known  by  the  whites  as  Vernal  .ball, 
from  the  beautiful  emerald  tints  it  displays. 
It  consists  of  one  clear  fall  of  three  hundred  and  fifty  feet,  and 
is  accessible  from  more  points  than  any  other  fall  in  the  valley. 
The  water  starts  from  the  cliff  in  two  great  rocky  flumes, 
twenty  feet  wide  and  perhaps  a  foot  in  depth  ;  but  long  before 
reaching  the  bottom  is  utterly  broken  into  minutest  fragments 
and  rolled  into  one  great  airy  sheet  of  foam  ;  snow-white  and 
dazzling,  bordered  apparently  by  pearl-dust,  it  seems  a  column 


GREAT   KALEIDOSCOPE.  287 

of  cloud  breaking  upon  the  rocks  to  light  surf  and  starry  crys- 
tals. As  the  foam  floats  upward  the  sky  clears  suddenly,  and 
the  sun  pours  a  flood  of  bright  rays  into  the  gorge ;  the  dropping 
lines  of  emerald  take  on  a  brighter  tint,  and  a  rainbow  in  five 
concentric  rings  springs  upon  the  sight.  The  wind  sways  back 
the  gauzy  column;  the  penciled  rays  lose  their  exact  focus;  the 
rainbows  break  into  two,  four,  eight,  an  infinite  division  of 
indie  tints,  and  the  whole  presents  a  luminous  aureole  a  hun- 
dred feet  in  diameter:  another  draft  of  air  and  we  have  a  dis- 
solving view,  then  a  lull,  and  back  swings  the  fleecy  foaming 
column  in  two  bodies,  and  twice  the  number  of  circling  rain- 
bows delight  the  eye.  Back  comes  the  wind  and  away  swings 
the  watery  column,  bringing  again  the  double  breaking  linos 
of  iridic  tints;  the  eye  is  relieved  by  new  prismatic  combina- 
tions, and  the  overwrought  senses  roused  to  new  delight  by 
fresh  showers  of  more  brilliant  constellations. 

The  stairways  about  Vernal  Falls  are  well  arranged,  and  the 
steps  hewn  in  the  rock  afford  many  favorable  points  to  view 
the  entire  fall.  Gladly  would  we  have  lingered  here,  but  the 
approach  of  evening  called  us  away  while  our  enjoyment  was 
still  at  its  hight. 

The  hours  of  rest  pass  pleasantly  at  our  hotel  on  the  banks 
of  the  pellucid  Merced.  The  inhabitants  are  only  second  in 
interest  to  the  valley.  Mr.  J.  M.  Hutchings  walked  in  ten 
years  ago  and  pre-empted  the  land  where  his  hotel  now  stands. 
It  was  unsurveyed  public  land,  and  the  State  of  California,  to 
which  this  section  was  granted  by  Congress,  disputes  his  title. 
He  relies  upon  a  clause  in  the  law  of  1841,  giving  title  even  on 
unsurveyed  lands  in  case  of  a  certain  term  of  occupancy,  and 
the  question  is  still  pending.  Years  ago  he  came  in  on  snow 
shoes  to  see  if  the  valley  was  habitable  in  winter,  and  soon  after 
moved  his  family  in.  From  May  till  October  all  is  lively  in 
the  valley,  then  a  gloom,  born  of  perfect  isolation,  settles  upon 
the  place;  and  the  few  who  winter  through  are  as  completely 
cut  off  as  one  can  imagine.  Once  a  month  or  so,  an  Indian 
works  his  way  down  the  south  slope  on  snow-shoes,  bringing  in 
mail  and  taking  out  reports  from  the  imprisoned.  With  three 


288 


PLEASANT    QUARTERS. 


hotels,  a  saw-mill  and  two  ranches,  some  fifty  persons  reside  in? 
there,  including  thirty  voters.  For  seven  years  Mr.  Hatchings 
rode  a  hundred  miles  yearly  to  vote  ;  but  lately  a  precinct  has 
been  established  at  his  place. 

But  the  wonder — among  the  buildings  of  Yosemite — is  the 
"  Cosmopolitan,"  containing  saloon,  billiard  hall,  bathing  rooms 
and  barber-shop,  established  and  kept  by  Mr.  C.  E.  Smith. 
Everything  in  it  was  transported  twenty  miles  on  mules;  mir- 
rors full-length,  pyramids  of  elaborate  glassware,  costly  service,. 

the  finest  of  cues  and 
tables,  reading-room 
h  a  n  d  s  o  m  e  1  y  f  u  r  - 
nished  and  supplied 
with  the  latest  from 
Eastern  cities,  and 
baths  with  unexcep- 
tionable surround- 
ings, attest  the  nerve 
and  energy  of  the 
projector.  It  is  a  per- 
fect gem.  The  end 
of  the  wagon -road 
was  twenty  miles 
away  when  the  enter- 
prise began,  and  yet 
such  skill  was  used 
in  mule-packing  that 
not  an  article  was 
broken.  I  have  not 
seen  a  finer  place  of  resort,  for  its  size.  The  arrangements 
for  living  are  such  that  one  could  spend  the  summer  there 
delightfully,  and  we  found  several  tourists  who  remained  for 
weeks.  Space  forbids  a  full  account  of  the  sights  upon  the 
southern  cliifs:  of  Pohono— " Spirit  of  the  Evil  Wind"— called 
by  the  whites  Bridal  Vail,  a  tiny  stream  with  fall  of  940  feet; 
of  Lung-oo-too-koo-ya — "  Long  and  Slender  " — or  the  Ribbon 
Fall,  amounting  in  different  cascades  to  3300  feet;  of  Tis-sa- 


LIBERTY   CAP    (MT.  BRODERICK). 


NO   DESCRIPTION    ADEQUATE.  289 

ack— "  Goddess  of  the  Valley  "—or  the  South  Dome  ;  or  of  Tu- 
lool-we-ack — "  The  Terrible  " — the  wild,  craggy  gorge  of  South 
Cailon.  Nor  is  my  pen  equal  to  the  task  of  doing  justice  to 
Tu-toch-ah-nu-la— "  Great  Chief  of  the  Valley  "—or  El  Capi- 
tan,  rising  at  something  more  than  a  perpendicular,  leaning 
over  the  valley,  to  an  elevation  of  3300  feet ;  nor  to  Wah-wah- 
le-na — "  The  Three  Graces  " — whose  heads  shine  from  a  hight 
of  3750  feet.  Vainly  have  I  tried  to  convey  some  faint  idea, 
and  now  drop  my  pen  with  a  feeling  of  half  despair.  All  that 
is  to  be  seen  elsewhere  in  our  country  seems  to  me  as  nothing 
— or  fit  only  to  be  used  as  a  basis  of  comparison,  whence  one 
may  gain  a  faint  idea  of  the  lesser  glories  of  Yosemite.  All 
that  the  utmost  stretch  of  fancy  can  picture  of  the  giant-like,  the 
colossal  and  Cyclopean,  is  but  a  shadowy  conception  of  this  im- 
mense reality.  No  description  has  ever  been  written.  None 
can  be  written  on  this  earth.  The  subject  is  beyond  the  pro- 
vince of  mere  word-painting.  A  man  must  die  and  learn  the 
language, of  the  angels  before  he  can  describe  Yosemite. 

19 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

SKETCHES   IN   SAN   FRANCISCO. 

Mr 

Return  from  Yosemite — Summary  of  trip — Does  it  pay  ? — Climate  of  San  Fran- 
cisco—Of the  State— Variety  in  "  Frisco  "—The  Barbary  Coast— Chines* 
Theatre— The  Cliff  House  and  Seal  Rocks— Literature  of  the  Pacific— Joaquin 
Miller— Frances  Rose  Mackinley— Morals  and  manners— Excitement  and 
wearing  out — An  inventive  Race — The  Chinese  agaii-. 

i 

UR  return  from  Yosemite  was  still  more  exhaustive  than 
the  going,  but  fortunately  not  so  long.  From  the  valley 
to  Milton  is  two-thirds  of  the  way  down  hill,  and  at  a 
continuous  run  we  made  it  in  less  than  a  day  and  a  half 
— the  distance  which  requires  two  long  tiresome  days  in 
going  up.  We  varied  the  route  by  taking  a  boat  from  Stockton 
to  "  Frisco,"  leaving  the  former  place  by  the  San  Joaquin  River 
at  5  P.  M.,  and  reaching  the  wharf  of  the  city  at  2  A.  M.  next 
morning.  And  having  completed  the  trip,  the  question  again 
seriously  arises  :  Does  it  pay  to  visit  Yosemite?  The  same  route 
would  be  too  laborious  for  any  other  curiosity  that  I  know  of, 
but  one  twice  as  long  and  toilsome  would  here  be  handsomely 
repaid. 

From  Milton — present  terminus  of  the  Copperopolis  Rail- 
road— by  the  way  of  the  Big  Trees  to  Yosemite,  is  150  miles; 
and  from  Yosemite  back  by  Chinese  Camp  direct  is  109  miles, 
making  a  total  of  staging  of  259  miles.  Add  100  by  rail  going 
to  Milton,  and  twenty  by  rail  and  100  by  steamer  returning, 
and  we  have  a  total  of  220  by  rail  and  steamer,  and  a  grand 
total  of  479  miles  in  going  and  return.*  For  all  this 
hauling,  House  worth,  Sisson  &  Co.  charge  us  the  moderate 


*  There  are  two  other  routes.  All  needed  information  for  tourists,  with  chart  and 
guide,  may  be  obtained  by  writing  to  Thomas  Houseworth  &  Co.,  San  Francisco. 
*290 


k. 


291 


292  REVIEW  OF  THE  ROUTE. 

price  of  forty-six  dollars  per  man.  To  this  must  be  added 
three  dollars  per  day  for  necessaries  upon  the  road,  and  the  same 
for  each  day  in  the  valley  for  guide  and  horse;  that  is,  if  you 
go  to  see  all  that  is  there,  and  if  you  do  not,  you  had  better  not 
go  at  all.  But  hundreds  of  visitors  never  go  out  of  the  little 
open  flat  around  the  hotel,  contenting  themselves  with  a  general 
view  of  distant  wonders.  Horace  Greeley,  when  he  visited  the 
valley,  rode  sixty  miles  on  horseback,  though  he  had  not  been 
in  a  saddle  for  twenty  years,  reaching  the  hotel  at  midnight  com- 
pletely exhausted,  and  minus  at  least  two  square  feet  of  abraded 
cuticle.  He  went  supperless  to  bed,  and  having  an  engagement 
to  fill,  left  at  noon  next  day,  and  the  second  night  thereafter 
lectured  at  a  town  nearly  tsvo  hundred  miles  away.  When  the 
railroad  is  completed  southward  to  the  Merced,  it  is  estimated 
that  a  first-class  stage  road  could  be  built  from  the  crossing  right 
up  the  Merced  to  Yosemite,  for  $100,000,  and  certainly  the 
State  could  not  make  a  better  investment.  The  road  would 
have  to  be  blasted  out  of  the  foot  of  the  cliffs  along  the  gate- 
way, where  the  Merced  flows  out  of  Yosemite ;  below,  the  grade 
would  not  be  difficult,  and  it  would  save  two-thirds  of  the  wear 
at  present  required.  All  that  man  can  do  has  been  done  on  the 
present  route,  and  still  the  trip  is  very  exhausting.  We  find 
four  changes  of  climate :  high  up  the  Sierras  it  is  cool  and 
balmy;  in  the  foothills,  sultry  and  calm  ;  out  in  the  main  valley, 
blazing  hot,  but  tempered  by  a  little  wind,  and  in  crossing  the 
bay,  and  in  San  Francisco,  damp  and  chilly.  To  sum  up  :  if  a 
man  have  $100,  two  weeks  time,  and  a  tough  backbone,  he  can 
go  to  Yosemite  and  see  more  of  the  wonderful  than  is  contained 
in  America  besides. 

The  cold  weather  was  giving  way  and  the  warm  season  about 
setting  in;  for  in  "  Frisco "  everything  goes  by  the  contrary ; 
the  seasons  are  all  mixed  up,  and  winter  comes  exactly  in  the 
middle  of  summer.  August  is  the  coldest,  and  September  the 
warmest  month  of  the  year.  The  reason  is  obvious  when  we 
note  the  course  of  the  Pacific  trade  winds.  The  easterly  wind, 
which  has  been  setting  on  the  coast  since  May,  begins  to  retire 
slowly  southward  in  July,  and  by  the  middle  of  August  the 


GO    IN    THE   SPRING.  293 

heavy  body  of  it  is  striking  full  on  the  city,  bringing  with  it 
fog  and  chills,  piercing  the  bones.  By  September  1st  or  15th,  the 
central  column — so  to  speak — of  this  wind  has  passed  "Frisco," 
and  is  setting  in  on  San  Diego  and  Mexico ;  and  behind  it  comes 
what  is  called  "the  suck,"  almost  a  calm,  or  even  a  wind  blow- 
ing off  the  coast.  But  this  takes  place  while  there  is  still  hot 
sun  enough  to  produce  warm  weather,  and  thus  the  chilly  breeze 
retiring  southward  before  the  September  sun  is  quite  ready  to 
follow,  this  and  the  next  are  the  warmest  months. 

The  first  six  months  of  the  year  are  the  best  time  to  visit 
California  ;  everything  is  bright  and  growing,  and  from  January 
to  June  there  is  comparatively  little  dust  or  heat.  After  that 
the  drouth  is  parching,  and  the  whole  interior,  from  the  Sierras 
to  the  Coast  Range,  becomes  yellow  and  arid.  For  days  of  travel 
not  a  green  spot  is  to  be  seen,  for  not  one  house  in  fifty  has  a 
grass  plat  about  it,  the  same  requiring  a  little  irrigation  and 
the  use  of  a  windmill.  The  old  fields  from  which  the  wheat  has 
been  cut  in  May  or  early  June  look  distressingly  barren  in  their 
coat  of  dirty  yellow ;  all  the  foothills  are  brown  or  dirty  gray, 
and  over  everything  is  dust,  dust,  dust.  Not  a  drop  of  rain  falls 
from  May  till  late  October;  then  come  the  drenching  rains  of 
autumn,  and  the  whole  plain  becomes  a  sea  of  liquid  mud — a 
little  too  thick  for  navigation  and  a  little  too  thin  for  roads. 
But  this  passes  away  in  a  month  or  two ;  the  roads  harden,  and 
only  moderate  showers  fall,  and  by  the  middle  of  January  the 
growing  season  is  fully  begun.  Then  everything  is  lovely  for 
a  while.  Strawberries  are  abundant  in  March,  and  every  kind 
of  early  fruit  and  vegetable  most  plentiful.  But  the  heavy  fruit 
season  comes  later ;  so,  if  you  can  not  visit  the  State  before  July 
and  avoid  the  dust,  then  come  late  in  August  or  in  September 
and  enjoy  the  fresh  fruits.  Do  not,  as  the  majority  of  Eastern 
tourists  do,  come  in  July,  get  all  the  evils  and  miss  the  comforts. 

I  like  San  Francisco  for  its  variety.  If  one  don't  like  staid 
American  society,  there  are  French,  Italian,  and  Spanish  quar- 
ters, and  not  far  off  Kanakas,  and  ever-present  Chinese.  Having 
a  few  nights  to  spend  in  sight-seeing,  we  give  the  first  to  the 
"  Barbary  Coast"  and  the  second  to  the  California  Theatre,  the 


294 


UA I A  FORM  A    A  M  U8EMENT8. 


THE  MINER  WHO       STRUCK  IT  RICH. 


last  just  then  the  great  attraction  of  the  city  in  the  way  of 
amusements.  California  taste  runs  more  towards  the  spectacular 
and  splendid  in  scenery  and  properties  than  to  the  solid  or 
classic  drama,  and  this  theatre  is  noted  for  paying  more  money 
for  scenery  than  any  other  in  America.  They  had  then  upon 
the  stage  a  play  entitled  "  Ready  ;  or  California  in  1871,"  which 
was  written  with  a  view  to  illustrate  the  wonders  of  the  State 
from  Cape  Horn  to  Yosemite.  The  various  views  were  of 


SOCIETY.  295 

familiar  places  in  San  Francisco,  of  Caper  Horn,  the  Central 
Pacific,  the  Vernal  Fall  at  Yosernite,  and  of  a  Chinese  opium 
den,  all  painted  with  exact  fidelity  to  the  originals.  The  scene 
representing  Vernal  Fall  surpassed  nature  almost;  the  illusion 
of  falling  water  being  produced  by  a  new  invention,  consisting 
of  a  cylinder  with  lights  inside  revolving  behind  the  transparent 
curtain.  The  theatre  was  crowded  from  orchestra  to  third  circle 
by  representatives  from  every  part  of  the  globe,  and  a  represen- 
tative California  audience  is  only  second  in  interest  to  such 
scenery.  The  play  is  nothing.  The  "villains"  of  the  piece 
concert  to  throw  the  Central  Pacific  train  off  at  Cape  Horn,  in 
order  to  rob  Wells-Fargo's  treasure  boxes ;  they  are  defeated  in 
the  very  act  by  the  "  virtuous  hero,"  who  clears  the  track  of 
stone  just  in  time  for  a  splendid  train  of  nine  cars  to  go  by,  in 
exact  semblance  of  the  reality,  filling  the  Californian's  soul 
with  delight  and  the  theatre  with  cheers.  The  "  model  detec- 
tive," disguised  as  a  Chinaman,  feigns  stupidity  in  the  opium 
den,  and  overhears  the  villains  plotting  to  rob  the  "  pious  old 
gentleman  "  of  the  play.  The  hero  finally  marries  the  heroine 
in  the  most  magnificent  church  of  the  city,  and  they  set  out  on 
a  tour  to  the  Yosemite,  where  they  come  across  the  "  villain," 
who  has  been  crushed  by  a  rock  overturning  upon  him  half  way 
up  the  cliff  to  Vernal  Falls.  Policemen,  tourists,  Chinamen 
and  diggers,  in  appropriate  costumes,  crowd  the  scenes.  Every 
view  of  city  or  country  is  exact  and  natural,  and  visitors  can 
get  about  as  good  an  idea  of  California  at  large  in  four  hours  of 
this  play  as  in  a  week's  travel.  Critics  there  claimed  that  this 
was  the  greatest  local  and  sensational  success  ever  produced  in 
America. 

Society  in  "  Frisco  "  seems  to  be  in  a  transition  state.  It  is 
a  land  of  the  beggar  and  the  prince.  There  seems  to  be  no 
middle  class.  Public  taste  inclines  to  the  showy,  sensational 
and  flashy,  rather  than  the  quietly  elegant.  More  "loud"  dress- 
ing, gaudy  jewelry,  flaunting  feathers,  frills  and  furbelows,  big 
bows,  and  loose-flying,  parti-colored  ribbons  can  be  seen  on 
Montgomery  and  Kearney  streets  than  on  any  two  fashionable 
promenades  I  have  traversed.  A  "  '49-er  "  tells  me,  as  I  have 


PUBLIC    BUILDINGS.  297 

heard  before,  that  the  female  aristocracy  of  San  Francisco  con- 
sists largely  of  those  who  came  out  there  twenty  or  twenty-five 
years  ago,  when  women  were  scarce,  as  servant  girls,  waiters 
and  the  like,  and  married  men  who  grew  suddenly  rich  in  the 
wonderful  changes  of  those  times. 

The  extravagance  of  dress  in  "  Frisco  "  has  long  been  a  sub- 
ject of  remark ;  and  it  is  probable  that  wealth  and  fashion  out- 
run taste  and  cultivation  in  a  community,  which  in  twenty 
years  rose  like  another  Venice,  from  the  salt-marsh  and  sand- 
hill to  unmeasured  opulence.  The  suddenly  rich  usually  spend 
their-  money  in  the  way  that  will  make  most  display  ;  and  if 
we  cannot  altogether  commend  their  taste,  we  are  pleased  to 
find  with  it  in  California  a  kindness  of  heart  which  has  been 
equally  lavish  in  hospitality  and  institutions  of  charity. 

A  Protestant  Orphan  Asylum  was  erected  in  1854,  at  a  cost 
of  $30,000,  and  has  received  many  additions  since.  The  Catholic 
Orphan  Asylum,  with  school  building  annexed,  cost  $100,000, 
and  contains  three  times  as  many  children  as  the  Protestant, 
the  Catholic  being  in  a  decided  majority  over  any  other  sect. 
They  have  ten  churches  in  the  city.  Next  come  the  Methodists 
with  nine,  the  Presbyterians  with  six,  and  two  or  three  each  of 
all  others,  including  Jewish,  Universalist,  Unitarian  and  Chi- 
nese, if  we  may  dignify  the  two  "joss  houses"  of  the  latter  by 
the  name. 

The  beauty  of  Sunday  afternoon  tempted  us  to  use  that  day 
for  a  visit  to  the  Cliff  House,  the  great  sea-side  resort.  It  lies 
on  the  opposite,  or  western,  side  of  the  peninsula,  about  four 
miles  from  Montgomery  Street/  There  are  many  ways  of  reach- 
ing it,  of  which  the  ultra  fashionable  is  to  pay  about  three 
times  as  much  for  a  hack  as  the  same  would  cost  in  Cincinnati; 
but  the  popular  and  democratic  mode,  adopted  by  us,  is  to  take 
the  street  cars  to  Lone  Mountain,  whence  a  line  of  hacks  runs 
carrying  passengers  at  the  moderate  price  of  "  six  bits  there 
and  back."  Lone  Mountain,  the  city  cemetery,  stands  beyond 
the  limits  of  the  city  proper,  but  various  homestead  associations 
have  built  up  a  line  of  villages  all  the  way  across  the  point. 
Whirling  along  through  sandhills,  on  which  I  observed  a  plenti- 


298  THE   SEA-LIONS. 

fill  supply  of  two  old  Utah  acquaintances,  sagebrush  and  grease- 
wood,  a  sudden  turn  to  the  left  gave  a  free  outlook  towards 
the  west ;  there  I  took  my  first  view  of  the  Pacific,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  more  was  upon  the  seaward  porch  of  the  Cliff 
House. 

The  day  was  calm  and  almost  cloudless;  the  sight  westward 
free  even  to  the  meeting  of  sea  and  sky ;  the  blue  vault,  and 
the  soft  air  of  the  Pacific,  were  over  and  around  us ;  to  the  right 
the  Golden  Gate  opened  into  the  bay ;  while  below  us  and  far 
down  the  coast  the  white  surf  was  breaking  upon  the  shore, 
with  that  sublime  music  which  has  been  the  delight  and  the 
despair  of  poets  since  the  poluphloisboio  of  Homer.  The 
house  stands  upon  a  projecting  rock,  some  forty  feet  above  the 
waves,  which  beat  incessantly  upon  the  jagged  points  below, 
and  at  times  even  dash  their  light  spray  into  the  faces  of  those 
upon  the  seaward  porch.  Apparently  a  hundred  yards  out, 
really  three  times  as  far,  stands  the  cluster  of  rocks  which  are 
the  resort  of  the  sea-lions.  They  were  there  in  numbers,  not 
playing  in  the  waves  as  sometimes,  but  lying  in  groups  upon 
the  top  of  the  rocks,  "sunning  themselves,"  one  might  say; 
their  deep,  hollow  bark  mingling  with  the  roar  of  the  surf. 
A  lone  rock,  a  little  farther  out,  is  covered  in  the  same  way 
with  gulls,  visitors  not  being  allowed  to  fire  at  either. 

Below  the  Cliff  House  a  road,  cut  into  the  rock  and  walled 
on  the  side  next  the  ocean,  leads  down  to  a  sandy  beach  below, 
where  the  hills  give  back  from  the  shore.  A  long  salt  marsh, 
easily  forded,  is  shut  off  from  the  ocean  by  a  sand  "  spit/'  on 
which  is  a  firm  and  excellent  drive,  even  to  the  edge  of  the 
surf.  Taken  altogether,  this  may  be  called  the  Long  Branch 
of  the  West. 

As  the  afternoon  drew  on,  while  we  watched  the  gambols  of 
the  sea-lions,  which  had  aroused  to  unusual  activity,  the  air 
suddenly  grew  dim,  the  rocks  appeared  to  recede,  the  view  of 
the  ocean  was  shut  off,  and  a  dense  bank  of  fog  came  rolling  in- 
land, while  long  lines  of  mist  spread  over  the  hills  and  went 
creeping  through  the  hollows  towards  the  city.  By  4  P.  M.  the 
breeze  was  coming  in  strong  from  the  ocean ;  the  air,  which 


299 


300  DAILY   CHANGES. 

three  hours  before  was  quite  warm,  grew  uncomfortably  chilly, 
and  the  crowd  turned  towards  town.  Reaching  Montgomery 
Street  we  found  it  dark  with  fog  and  mist,  and  a  damp  cold 
night  set  in  where  the  morning  had  been  so  bright  and  warm. 

This  sea-breeze,  which  comes  every  afternoon, -bringing  more 
or  less  fog,  gives  San  Francisco  what  might  be  called  a  singular 
uniformity  of  variety.  There  is  no  change  of  temperature 
during  the  night,  or  if  any,  it  turns  warmer.  Of  the  eight 
days  I  spent  there,  in  October,  1859,  three  were  somewhat  rainy, 
the  rest  beautifully  clear  and  mild.  It  was  warmer  then  than 
I  found  it  in  August;  but  between  January  and  June  there  is 
•no  perceptible  difference. 

A  day's  ramble  about  San  Francisco  in  August  I  find  to  be 
a  miniature  copy  of  the  seasons,  except  that  no  snow  falls  to  re- 
present the  hard  winter  of  the  East.  We  rise  at  7  A.  M.  to  a 
balmy  early  spring  morning;  if  very  hardy,  even  a  visitor  can 
go  without  a  summer  overcoat,  but  to  stand  around  the  streets 
I  find  it  more  pleasant  to  wear  mine.  The  rising  sun  scatters 
the  light,  fleecy  clouds,  and  shines  out  with  some  fervor,  and 
by  10  A.  M.  I  take  off  my  overcoat,  for  a  mild  summer  has  set 
in.  This  continues  with  beautiful  steadiness  till  2  or  3  P.M.; 
then  the  thermometer  falls  about  five  degrees  very  suddenly, 
as  the  afternoon  fog  comes  rolling  over  the  city.  November 
continues  from  4  till  7  P.  M.,  at  which  time  regular  winter  sets 
in.  It  is,  in  reality,  only  eight  or  ten  degrees  colder  than  it 
was  at  noon,  but  the  change  makes  it  seem  to  me  like  December. 
•I  button  tight  my  overcoat,  slap  my  fingers  vigorously,  and 
exercise  till  I  get  acclimated ;  then  take  a  hearty  dinner,  and 
two  cups  of  hot  coffee,  put  on  my  muffler,  and  go  out  for  an 
evening  to  look  at  the  "  Barbary  Coast." 

This  consists  of  some  twenty  squares  along  Dupont  and  ad- 
joining streets,  from  Stockton  to  Post  and  Sacramento,  inhabited 
exclusively  by  low  foreigners,  petty  thieves,  Chinese  and  pros- 
titutes. Our  party  of  three,  accompanied  by  a  friend  on  the 
special  police,  go  first,  of  course,  to  the  Chinese  Theatre.  A 
long,  low  room,  all  the  walls  garnished,  or  rather  daubed,  with 
gorgeous  Chinese  scenes,  all  without  perspective,  and  lighted 


HO  I 


302  THE    <>  CELESTIAL"    DRAMA. 

by  a  variety  of  colored  lanterns — the  whole  crowded  with  Celes- 
tials, and  noisome  with  the  smoky  fumes  of  some  weed  I  can'f 
recognize,  is  not  particularly  inviting.  Yet  here  we  sit  an  hour, 
mostly  studying  the  audience,  but  occasionally  turning  an  eye 
on  the  monotonous  play.  From  the  lively  pantomime  and  the 
explanations  of  our  guide,  I  make  out  that  it  represents  some 
marvelous  incidents  in  the  career  of  Kip  Sah,  or  some  other  old 
humbug,  whose  name  and  monarchy  were  great  in  China  about 
sixty  thousand  years  since.  I  may  not  have  the  date  quite  cor- 
rect, as  Celestial  history  consists  of  the  annals  of  a  series  of 
dynasties,  evolving  civilization  and  philosophy  through  suc- 
cessive eras  of  such  magnitude  that  a  variation  of  twenty  thou- 
sand years,  more  or  less,  is  regarded  as  a  trifling  discrepancy. 
The  musicians  sit  upon  the  stage  directly  behind  the  actors,  who 
enter  and  retire  always  by  the  wings  ;  and  the  dying  groans  of 
Hip  Sail,  who  expires  in  a  fit  just  after  having  triumphed  over 
all  his  enemies  and  beheaded  fifty  thousand  prisoners,  are 
drowned  by  the  monotonous  droning  of  something  like  a  tin 
drum  and  two  three-stringed  instruments,  about  as  musical  as  a 
hog  with  his  nose  under  a  gate,  but  not  half  as  expressive.  A 
placard  on  the  wall  is  rendered  by  our  interpreter,  as  an  assurance 
to  the  Celestial  public  that  this  magnificent  play  is  produced  here 
exactly  as  it  was  two  thousand  years  ago  in  Pekin. 

In  the  back  of  the  stage  is  a  number  of  pegs,  on  which  hang 
swords,  masks,  enormous  wigs,  robes,  baskets  and  a  variety  of 
household  articles.  When  the  actor  has  had  his  say  in  front,  he 
walks  quietly  to  the  rear  of  the  stage,  takes  off  his  "fixings" 
and  hangs  them  up  till  his  time  comes  to  "go  on  "  again.  It 
is  needless  to  add  that  the  illusion  is  somewhat  marred  by 
this  proceeding.  There  were  no  women  on  the  stage,  and 
I  am  told  that  none  ever  appear  there.  Half  a  dozen  or  so 
were  in  the  audience,  huddled  together  in  the  most  obscure 
corner. 

We  find  the  Chinese  quarter  settled  so  thickly  that  it  seems 
scarcely  possible  human  beings  could  exist  so,  and  cannot 
repress  a  feeling  of  fear  as  we  plunge  into  the  dark  alleys  lined 
by  little  cubby-holes  alive  with  yellow  women.  But  our  guide 


303 


304  THE  "DANGEROUS  CLASSES." 

assures  us  we  are  always  safe  here;  "though,"  he  adds,  "I 
can't  give  you  any  such  promise  two  squares  from  here  among 
the  whites." 

Nevertheless,  we  went  and  inspected  the  white  quarter. 
Such  things  have  been  described  too  often  ;  and  if  one  has 
read  a  desciption  of  the  "hard  quarter"  of  one  city,  he 
knows  enough  about  all.  For  there  is  a  singular  monotony 
about  misery  and  sin  everywhere,  and  the  "poor  devil"  of 
San  Francisco  does  not  differ  materially  from  the  same  indi- 
vidual in  New  York.  Poverty  is  a  misfortune  anywhere;  in  a 
great  city  it  is  very  near  a  crime.  And  with  the  really  vicious 
who  crowd  the  haunts  of  the  "  Barbary  Coast,"  are  many  whose 
only  fault  is  poverty.  For  a  brief  glance  at  the  better-class 
dance-house,  the  low-class  "  den,"  and  the  "  flash  theatre,"  I 
can  only  refer  the  reader  to  the  illustrations. 

But  far  above  the  denizens  of  the  "  Barbary  Coast,"  there  is 
still  a  large  class  who  live  by  pandering  to  vicious  tastes,  and  a 
much  larger  class  whose  only  amusements  are  of  the  "flash" 
and  "display"  order.  The  wants  of  all  these  are  met  by 
half  a  dozen  "  melodeons,"  the  most  brilliant  of  which  is  the 
"Bella  Union,"  where  it  may  be  said,  ballet  girls  iwdress  most 
extravagantly  of  any  place  in  America,  and  where  the  worship 
of  the  calf — padded,  not  golden — prevails  to  such  an  extent 
that  Moses  would  have  fairly  pulverized  the  stone  tables,  had 
he  witnessed  it. 

The  upper  part  of  San  Francisco  is  full  of  geographical  sur- 
prises, as  the  plat  is  the  result  of  an  awkward  attempt  to  build, 
upon  a  collection  of  knolls,  hills  and  miniature  mountains,  a  city 
on  the  exact  plan  of  level  Philadelphia,  resulting,  as  we  might 
expect,  in  laborious  and  irregular  attempts  at  uniformity.  The 
city  is  built  upon  the  northern  end  of  a  peninsula  twenty-five 
miles  long,  between  the  bay  and  ocean ;  city  and  county  consti- 
tute but  one  municipality.  The  point  of  the  peninsula  is  about 
four  miles  wide,  formed  of  a  series  of  sandy  hills,  with  inter- 
vening valleys  and  slopes;  upon  these,  or  rather  upon  the 
inner  eastern  side,  is  the  city.  For  several  squares,  from  the 
bay  the  plat  is  quite  level,  tolerably  so  in  the  valleys ;  but  the 


20 


305 


306  SHAKY    REAL    ESTATE. 

place  grew  so  much  faster  than  was  expected  that  it  has  every- 
where "  bulged  in"  to  the  hills  in  a  rather  awkward  manner. 
The  city  now  occupies  an  area  about  double  that  of  fifteen 
years  ago;  nearly  all  of  the  level  tract  is  devoted  to  business, 
and  many  of  the  highest  hills  are  appropriated  for  palatial 
mansions.  But  many  dwellings,  which  in  front  are  level  with 
one  street,  have  a  back  yard  terminating  in  a  sheer  descent  of 
fifty  feet  or  more;  and  proceeding  along  a  level  street  one  is 
surprised,  on  looking  across  an  open  square,  to  see  a  palatial 
mansion  away  upon  a  side  hill,  or  stuck  upon  a  rock,  with 
galleries  winding  along  the  almost  perpendicular  sides. 

With  this  uneven  surface  and  rather  sandy  soil,  splendid 
facilities  exist  for  keeping  the  city  clean,  and  it  is  noticeably  so, 
except  in  a  few  places  near  the  bay.  Another  compensation 
for  the  hills  is  the  fact  that  they,  with  the  attempts  of  engineers^ 
have  caused  a  strangely  picturesque  and  interesting  city.  Of 
San  Francisco  it  may  certainly  be  said  that  it  has  a  character 
and  development  peculiarly  its  own  ;  it  is  no  pale  copy  of 
New  York  or  Chicago,  as  the  latter  is  of  the  former,  but  sui 
generis,  to  be  loved  and  studied  for  its  own  municipal  individu- 
ality, in  which  it  probably  excels  any  other  city  in  America. 

The  first  San  Francisco  was  built  almost  entirely  of  wood, 
and  vanished  one  day  in  a  sweeping  fire.  The  second  was 
built  largely  of  wood,  or  in  a  rather  fragile  manner  with  more 
solid  materials;  the  frequent  fires  finally  cured  the  first  fault, 
and  the  earthquakes  frightened  them  out  of  the  second.  Seis- 
mology— the  new  science — ought  to  have  many  enthusiastic 
students  in  San  Francisco,  for  if  any  man  can  discover  how  the 
earthquakes  may  be  accurately  foretold,  his  fortune  is  made. 
Ordinary  shocks  which  would  be  historic  in  the  East,  are  but 
the  talk  of  an  hour  there;  and  in  one  year  there  were  eleven 
slwkes.  The  "  Earth-sustaining  Ennosigaios,"  of  whom  Homer 
tells  us,  must  certainly  stand  uneasily  under  "Frisco."  Many 
ingenious  plans  have  been  suggested  to  avoid  the  dangers 
therefrom,  and  tall  houses  are  now  constructed  with  a  com- 
plex set  of  "stringers"  through  them. 

Only  eight  miles  away,  just  across  the  bay,  the  beautiful 


GOAT    ISLAND. 


307 


THE  FIRST  SAN   FRANCISCO  DESTROYED. 

little  City  of  Oakland  rarely  has  even  a  shiver;  and  from  its 
location  many  think  it  ought  to  have  been  the  great  city.  It  is 
now  the  Brooklyn  to  the  commercial  emporium.  But  between 
the  two,  a  little  northward,  lies  Goat  Island,  long  the  point  of 
dread  to  the  San  Franciscans.  The  Central  Pacific  Company 
were  moving  Congress  to  grant  them  the  Island  for  a  terminus 
to  their  road  ;  and  it  was  believed  in  San  Francisco  that  their 
intention  was  to  connect  it  with  the  main  land,  transfer  all 
their  business  to  that  side,  and  thus  build  up  a  great  rival. 
This  was  the  one  subject  on  which  few  San  Franciscans  could 
talk  coolly,  and  their  public  meetings  upon  the  matter  were 
anything  but  models  of  decorum. 

Oratory  and  literature  on  the  Pacific  coast  tend  decidedly  to 
the  florid ;  and  this  feature  is  most  developed  in  San  Francisco. 


308 


CALIFORNIA   LITERATURE.  309 

Foreign  critics  have  maintained  that  certain  characteristics  be- 
long distinctively  to  American  humor,  such  as  broad  exaggeration 
and  recklessness;  and  these  features,  with  an  excess  of  coloring, 
appear  peculiarly  in  California  literature.  In  the  last  developed 
poet,  Joaquin  Miller,  these  features  are  most  marked.  On  the 
Coast,  his  "Kit  Carson's  Hide,"  is  most  criticised,  and  his 
"Ifles  of  the  Amazons,"  most  praised.  But  I  have  never  been 
al)]0 — fVom  want  of  poetical  taste,  perhaps — to  admire  his  poetry 
as  do  the  critics  of  the  Co  ist.  To  me  it  appears — and  the  criti- 
cism applies  to  most  Pacific  Coast  poetry — to  partake  somehow 
of  the  soft,  sensuous  and  deceiving  nature  of  the  climate:  all  rich 
description,  florid  language,  without  point,  moral,  or  conclusion  ; 
sweet,  intoxicating,  anil  confusing,  but  not  strengthening.  A  com- 
pleted poem  may  well  be  compared  with  one  of  the  old  Spanish 
gardens  of  California — a  bewildering  maze  of  colors,  lily  white, 
or  staring  red  and  yellow,  intermingled  without  plan  or  order, 
and  yielding  neither  fruit  nor  odor.  But  authorities  differ: 
one  enthusiastic  Pacific  Coast  journal  likens  Miller,  in  his 
gorgeous  word-painting,  to  Byron  ;  to  which  a  disgusted  cotem- 
porary  replies,  that  "he  resembles  Byron  as  a  little  nigger  does 
a  black  night." 

California,  particularly  San  Francisco,  had  a  few  celebrated 
women  at  the  time  of  our  visit.  Frances  Rose  Mackinley 
(Mrs.  or  Miss,  I  don't  know — probably  not  important),  had 
shocked  the  moral  and  astonished  the  others,  by  reaffirming  the 
doctrines  of  Vickie  Bloodhull,  with  a  fine  Pacific  Coast  flavor — 
a  sort  of  rich  and  sensuous  description,  which  almost  made  them 
entertaining  by  removing  part  of  their  original  grossness.  Her 
book  was  to  be  found,  occasionally ',  away  down  at  the  bottom 
of  young  men's  trunks,  to  be  slipped  from  hand  to  hand  among 
tie  "  fast,"  and  read  by  stealth  ;  and  even  a  few  of  the  venerable 
patres  conscripti  held  up  one  hand  in  horror  at  her  disorganiz- 
ing doctrines,  while  the  other  went  down  into  the  breeches 
pocket  for  a  dollar  wherewith  to  buy  the  volume. 

But  as  soon  as  the  sensation  of  novelty  was  past,  Rose  sank 
to  her  appropriate  place.  The  moral  world,  whether  of  Nevr 
York  or  San  Francisco,  need  have  no  fears  of  such  disorganizes. 
They  serve,  rather,  as  does  the  convenient  drunkard  to  the 


310 


EXCITING    LIFE.  311 

itinerant  temperance  lecturer,  as  a  frightful  example.  When 
human  nature  has  so  changed  that  a  man  will  toil  as  hard  to 
support  another  man's  children  as  his  own  ;  when  he  is  totally 
indifferent  whether  his  wife's  little  flock  are  all  his  own,  or  claim 
different  fathers ;  when  a  young  man  takes  a  brevet-wife  for  a 
life-companion  as  willingly  as  a  maiden  ;  and,  above  all,  when 
unchanging  nature  herself  ceases  to  stamp  upon  the  face  of  vir- 
gin innocence  that  indescribable  charm  which  all  men  recognize 
and  honor,  but  none  can  portray — then  we  may  expect  "  free 
love "  to  become  the  social  condition.  Until  then,  personal 
purity  in  woman  will  be  as  much  sought  for  by  man  as  it  is 
commanded  by  Heaven  and  approved  by  the  teaching  of  nature. 

San  Francisco  has  a  fair  proportion  of  the  moral  and  in- 
telligent, though,  of  course,  the  traces  of  the  moral  storm  and 
wrecks  of  her  early  years  are  still  to  be  seen.  The  future  Cali- 
fornians  will  probably  be  the  most  inventive  race  in  the  world  ; 
for  only  the  most  resolute  settled  the  country  at  first,  only  the 
most  skilful  succeeded,  and  their  situation  was  such  as  to  make 
invention  and  contrivance  a  necessity.  Still  more  will  this  re- 
sult from  a  mixture  of  races;  that  state  of  facts  which  has  made 
the  American  what  he  is,  exists  tenfold  more  in  California.  But 
there  is  too  much  intensity  in  social  life  yet,  and  too  much  fluc- 
tuation in  business.  The  tendency  to  suicide  and  insanity  on 
the  Pacific  Coast  was  for  many  years  amazing.  Life  is  too  ex- 
citing; there  are  too  many  revulsions.  One  must  do  business 
on  too  large  a  scale;  make  much  or  lose  much.  The  unsettled 
state  of  society,  also,  in  early  years  broke  up  many  families  and 
caused  much  domestic  unhappiness.  Broken  down  men  either 
fought  the  battle  against  fate  with  a  desperate  recklessness,  till 
body  and  brain  were  alike  crazed,  or  yielded  to  misfortune  and 
sank  dejected,  became  morbid  and  lost  self-respect. 

Of  the  foreign  elements  introduced  into  San  Francisco,  ten 
times  my  space  would  be  required  to  treat  properly.  During 
my  first  visit,  the  anti-Chinese  excitement  was  at  its  hight;  at 
my  second,  it  had  sensibly  moderated,  and  at  my  last  I  scarcely 
heard  them  alluded  to.  For  a  time  they  ceased  to  be  a  "  prob- 
lem." However,  on  second  thoughts,  "  John  Chinaman "  is 
entitled  to  a  chapter  by  himself. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 


Popular  nonsense  about  the  Chinese — The  bugbear  Chinaman — The  romantic 
Chinaman — The  real  article. — His  history,  art,  music  arid  drama — Objections 
to  them  considered— Do  they  cheapen  labor? — Will  they  overrun  the 
country? — Do  they  degrade  labor? — Their  condition — MiSvsionary  work — 
Sacramento  system — Rev.  O.  Gibson — Better  specimens — Yellow  Chinese  — 
Mrs.  Laisun  and  daughters — Chinese  students — Hope  for  the  race. 


31//  O  come  at  once  to  the  point,  I  feel  no  anxiety  about 
"John  Chinaman/'  either  as  a  political  problem, 'a  dis- 
;>>  turbing  social  power,  or  a  source  of  injury  to  the 
laboring  classes.  The  talk  about  his  doing  this,  that 
and  the  other  terrible  thing  on  the  Pacific  coast  is  three- 
fourths  of  it  political  demagoguery,  and  half  of  the  other 
fourth,  pure  nonsense.  Nor,  on  the  other  hand,  can  I  find  in 
him  that  remarkable  virtue  and  sterling  honesty,  or  that  indus- 
try and  ingenuity  with  which  his  apologists  have  credited  him. 
Such  ideas  are  but  the  natural  reaction  of  a  generous  mind, 
enthusiastic  to  deft-nd  an  oppressed  race  against  a  cowardly  and 
brutal  class,  who  maltreat  them  for  some  fancied  injury. 

'No  California  gentleman  or  lady  ever  abuses  a  Chinaman." 
"  Twain  "  never  spoke  a  truer  word.  But  there  is  in  California, 
as  elsewhere,  a  considerable  class,  many  of  whom  have  them- 
selves but  lately  sought  an  asylum  in  America,  whose  worst 
instincts  are  excited  against  a  race  differing  so  widely  from  them- 
selves ;  and  demagogues  stoop  to  pander  to  this  feeling.  Hence 
a  world  of  declamation  about  the  horrors  of  Chinese  invasion. 
Honorable  mention  should  be  made  of  a  few  exceptions.  Hon. 
Goo.  C.  Gorham  was  not  afraid  to  raise  his  voice  publicly  in 
defense  of  the  oppressed,  though  by  so  doing  he  lost  the  support 

313 


314  HALF-CIVILIZATION. 

of  the  masses,  and  was  remanded  to  private  life  by  an  over- 
whelming majority.  Our  wild  man  G.  F.  Train,  also  did  a 
good  thing  in  his  public  utterances  in  San  Francisco;  and  I 
often  heard  the  remark  there,  that  he  had  said  what  no  other 
man  in  America  could  have  said  and  lived. 

Still  the  abuse  of  Chinamen  continues,  though  more  and 
more  rarely.  Then  come  the  apologists  and  claim  for  "John" 
a  score  of  virtues  which  he  does  not  possess.  He  is,  they  say, 
the  cleanest,  most  temperate,  faithful,  and  honest  of  all  domestic 
servants.  All  this,  as  it  is  in  defense  of  the  oppressed,  is  very 
noble,  very  generous,  almost  praiseworthy.  It  has  but  one  fault: 
it  is  not  true. 

"John"  is  simply  a  half  civilized  heathen,  with  an  odd 
mixture  of  tolerably  good  and  very  bad  qualities,  and  in  a  fear- 
ful minority,  which  alone  would  prevent  his  being  of  one-tenth 
the  consequence  attributed  to  him.  "John"  has  a  civilization 
which.,  is,  sui  generis,  perfect  as  far  as  it  goes.  But  a  little 
examination  shows  there  is  a  singular  and  radical  defect  in 
everything  he  does:  he  is  an  admirable  painter,  but  knows  noth- 
ing of  perspective;  he  draws  rapidly  from  a  copy,  but  can  rarely 
design  ;  he  imitates  like  a  monkey,  but  cannot  invent;  he  has  a 
wonderful  memory  for  details,  and  follows  the  bad  copy  just  as 
faithfully  as  the  good.  His  music  is  perfect  as  to  time,  but  has 
no  element  of  melody;  while  the  third  division,  dynamics, 
makes  the  only  variety. 

His  acting  is  faultless  as  to  plot,  incident  and  action  ;  but  it  is 
acting  only  by  which  he  conveys  the  impression  of  feeling. 
The  voice,  that  wonderful  instrument  by  which  every  shade  of 
emotion  may  be  wafted  from  the  speaker's  mind  to  the  hearer's 
soul,  is  utterly  without  variation :  the  dying  groans  of  the 
expiring  hero,  the  battle  cry  of  the  bold  and  bloody  Rip  Sah, 
the  love  songs  of  Kam  Pou,  and  the  passionate  breathings  of 
his  mistress  are  all  delivered  in  one  screaming  falsetto.  The 
stranger  who  drops  into  their  theatre  on  Jackson  Street  for  one 
evening,  does  not  fully  observe  this,  as  he  knows  nothing  of  the 
idea  expressed  ;  but  let  him  attend  often  enough  to  catch  the 
sense  from  the  pantomime,  or  better,  take  a  native  to  explain  the 


315 


316  SAMENESS   OF   DEVELOPMENT. 

progress  of  the  play,  and  he  will  see  that  the  want  of  harmony 
between  sound  and  sentiment,  when  not  shocking,  is  too  ludi- 
crous for  description.  If  "John"  has  any  conception  whatever 
of  melody,  as  distinct  from  mere  racket,  I  can  find  no  evidences 
of  it. 

The  same  one-thing-lacking  appears  in  all  branches  of  their 
culture.  Their  literature  is  but  repetitions  and  combinations  of 
that  of  their  ancestors  ;  their  history  all  reads  alike,  as  if  each 
century  had  taken  pains  to  repeat  all  the  doings  of  the  century 
preceding;  and  their  fine  arts  present  an  endless  array  of 
dragons,  griffins,  Boodhs,  flving  monsters,  and  spike-tailed 
devils  with  pagoda-shaped  hats.  To  suggest  that  the  poets  or 
orators  of  to-day  have  improved  upon  those  of  two  thousand 
years  ago,  would  be  an  insult  to  a  Chinese  scholar.  To  say  that 
they  are  inferior  would  scarcely  be  less  an  insult;  but  might  be 
forgiven  as  a  delicate  compliment  to  the  ancestors  whom  the 
Chinese  worship. 

Of  course  there  was  a  time  when  the  Chinese  mind  waa 
inventive  ;  but  it  was  many  centuries  since.  About  two  thousand 
years  ago  the  race,  which  had  progressed  for  twelve-hundred  years, 
probably  reached  the  climax  of  their  cranial  capacity  and  stopped. 
Since  then  they  have  stood  still  or,  some  think,  have  begun  to 
retrograde.  They  number  perhaps  100,000  on  the  Pacific 
coast.  What  then  are  the  objections  to  them  ? 

1.   They  work  cheap,  and  so  throw  white  men  out  of  employment. 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  evident  at  a  glance  that  less  than  one- 
fifth  of  them  come  into  competition  with  white  labor.  The  rest 
are  doin'g  work  which  white  men  would  not  do  at  all.  In  the 
swamp  and  tide-water  lands,  in  working  old  placers  abandoned 
by  white  miners,  in  silk  culture,  and  in  cheap  laundries,  are 
found  one-half  of  the  Chinese — where  white  men  would  not 
take  the  labor.  Of  the  other  half,  many  are  house  and  hotel 
servants,  and  others  work  in  gangs  on  the  railroads;  while  a 
very  few  are  manufacturers. 

But  do  they  work  cheap?  Only  in  a  local  sense.  It  is  cheap 
in  California,  but  would  not  be  in  the  East.  When  the  gang 
was  brought  to  North  Adams,  Massachusetts,  two  or  three 


"CHEAP  LABOR." 


317 


CHINESE   MERCHANT  ON  POST  STREET. 

years  ago,  we  heard  much  of  the  dreaded  invasion;  but  I 
have  not  observed  that  the  experiment  has  been  repeated. 
Thirty-five  dollars  per  month  is  not  cheap  in  the  East,  though 
it  is  in  California;  and  few  Chinese  will  work  for  less.  Besides, 
as  soon  as  they  learn  the  ways  of  the  country  and  a  little  of  the 
language,  there  is  not  the  least  doubt  but  they  will  ask  all  their 
labor  is  worth,  and  a  little  more.  There  are  two  sides  to  this 
discussion  of  cheap  labor.  There  is  also  cheap  production. 
There  is  a  buying  as  well  as  a  selling  side.  If  a  host  of  Chinese 
should  come  and  make  our  shoes  at  half  the  price  now  charged, 
twenty  thousand  people  would  be  thrown  out  of  employment. 
But  forty  million  people  would  be  able  to  buy  shoes  a  great 
deal  cheaper.  In  rice  culture,  in  the  tule,  swamp  and  tide  lands, 


318  "A   CHINESE   INVASION." 

where  white  men  will  not  work;  in  silk  culture  and  in  working 
"poor  placers,"  California  needs  and  can  employ  a  quarter  of  a 
million  Chinamen  without  displacing  a  single  white.  And 
the  results  would  double  the  wealth  of  the  State,  lessen  taxation 
one  half,  increase  the  demand  for  skilled  white  laborers,  and 
make  profitable  places  for  five  times  as  many  as  are  now  sitting 
about  the  cities  complaining  of  dull  times,  and  cursing  the 
"hay then  Chinee." 

The  argument  on  this  "  cheap-labor  question  "  has  a  comic 
resemblance  to  that  of  the  Yankee  who  was  sued  for  the  value 
of  a  kettle,  borrowed  and  broken.  His  answer  in  court  had 
three  counts:  first,  he  never  had  the  kettle;  second,  it  was 
broken  when  he  got  it ;  third,  it  was  whole  when  he  returned 
it.  Similarly,  but  with  more  truth,  of  the  Chinese:  first,  more 
cheap  labor  will  not  hurt  California;  and,  second,  the  Chinese 
will  not  cheapen  labor  to  any  appreciable  extent. 

2.  Bid  they  will  overrun  the  country  ! 

They  have  been  corning  for  a  quarter  of  a  century  and  only 
number  a  hundred  thousand.  At  this  rate  they  would,  at  the 
end  of  a  thousand  years,  be  in  as  great  a  minority  as  now ;  for 
we  get  twice  or  thrice  their  whole  number  from  Europe  every 
year.  Of  course,  their  immigration  is  liable  to  increase.  But 
if  all  the  emigrant  ships  running  to  all  the  ports  in  the  Union 
should  go  into  the  Chinese-carrying  trade,  they  could  only  bring 
over  a  quarter  of  a  million  a  year.  It  would  take  them  a  hun- 
dred and  sixty  years  to  reach  our  present  numbers,  even  if  we 
stood  still.  Can  we  not  Americanize  and  Christianize  as  fast 
as  they  can  immigrate?  In  the  light  of  plain  figures,  "the 
oncoming  millions  of  Asia,"  with  which  California  orators 
threaten  us,  appear  rather  as  a  violent  figure  of  speech  than  an 
imminent  fact. 

3.  They  will  degrade  labor! 

If  there  is  anything  I  particularly  enjoy,  it  is  to  hear  a  lily- 
handed  office-seeker  discourse  on  the  "  dignity  of  labor."  I  have 
been  reading  the  Bible  somewhat  of  late,  and  learn  therefrom 
that  labor,  like  death,  was  put  upon  man  as  a  curse  instead  of  a 
blessing ;  and  I  observe  that  his  natural  instinct  leads  him  to 


"DEGRADING    LAROR."  319 

put  off  the  one  as  long,  and  have  as  little  to  do  with  the  other, 
as  possible.  Also,  that  those  men  who  go  around  as  the 
"  workingman's  friends,"  getting  up  "  Labor-reform  Associa- 
tions "  and  talking  so  eloquently  about  the  "dignity  of  labor," 
are  the  ones  who  have  managed  to  do  the  least  of  it.  Hence, 
in  California,  I  was  not  at  all  surprised  to  see  that  all  the  anti- 
Chinese  orators  regularly  employed  a  house  full  of  Chinese  ser- 
vants. Enquiring  of  one  such  why  this  was  so,  he  frankly  re- 
plied, "  We  can't  help  ourselves  ;  other  servants  ask  wages  we 
can't  afford  to  pay,  and  arc  offensive  and  uncertain  besides." 
A  very  good  excuse;  but  did  our  forefathers  and  foremothers 
so  compromise  with  their  principles  when  they  refused  British 
tea?  If  these  fellows  were  in  earnest,  they  would  heave  the 
Chinese  servants  overboard,  as  those  others  did  the  tea,  and  do 
their  own  work.  Why  are  our  speakers  poloquent,  and  our 
newspapers  full  of  glowring  paragraphs,  about  the  "  dignity  of 
labor  ?"  Is  it  because  there  is,  after  all,  a  sort  of  doubt  in  the 
minds  of  thousands  about  it  ?  Of  course,  labor  is  dignified  and 
honorable;  but  why  not  take  it  for  granted,  in  a  country  like 
this,  and  cease  to  make  such  a  rumpus  about  it?  We  shout 
and  hurrah  over  the  simple  proposition  so  much,  that  we  make 
the  secret  doubt  apparent.  The  Chinese  will  "  degrade  labor  " 
just  so  far  as  the  laborer,  by  his  own  acts,  consents  that  it  shall 
be  degraded,  and  no  farther. 

The  social  condition  of  the  California,  particularly  the  San 
Francisco,  Chinese  is  unqualifiedly  bad.  They  are  herded  to- 
gether in  narrow  streets  and  alleys,  in  crowded  tenement  houses, 
living  almost  like  brutes,  and,  in  a  Christian  country,  with  the 
morals  of  heathen.  Of  course,  this  presents  no  just  standard 
by  which  to  judge  of  their  condition  at  home.  That  they  want 
to  do  much  better  is  clearly  proved  by  the  fact  that  as  fast  as 
they  are  able  they  do  improve,  live  cleanly  and  comfortably,  and 
with  a  tolerable  degree  of  morality.  A  Post  Street  merchant 
is  not  an  unpleasant  gentleman  to  associate  with,  by  any  means; 
and  the  style  of  his  apartment  and  dress  shows  considerable  taste. 
Chan  Laisun,  reported  to  be  worth  a  million  or  so,  does  not 
look  particularly  handsome  at  his  best,  the  more  so  as  he  insists 


320 


CHAN    LAISUN. 


CHAN  LAISUN. 

on  sitting  for  his  portrait  in  his  wash-basin  hat  and  puffed 
sleeves;  but  he  is  a  thoroughly  honest  dealer  for  all  that,  and 
if  he  promises  you  so  much  tea,  sampan  or  pacli-tong,  on  a  given 
day,  you  are  just  as  sure  of  it  as  if  you  had  a  written  contract. 
Such  specimens  show  that  the  national  mind  really  seeks  for 
something  better  than  is  to  be  seen  on  Dupont  Street. 

We  cannot  afford  to  let  the  race  go  altogether  uncared  for 
morally;  and  Christian  ideas  have  taken  a  good  practical  direc- 
tion in  the  matter.  The  mission  work  is  already  wonderful  in 
its  practical  results,  considering  the  small  force,  and  sublime  in 
its  possibilities.  The  first  effort  at  teaching  was  by  three  ladies 
of  the  Sixth  Street  Methodist  Church,  Sacramento:  Mrs.  Curly* 
Mrs.  Heacock  and  Mrs.  Sweetland — names  which  deserve  a 
place  in  history.  They  established  the  first  Chinese  school  in 
July,  1866,  and  others  were  following  when,  in  August,  1868, 
Rev.  O.  Gibson  was  sent  to  that  special  work  by  the  Methodist- 


EDUCATING    "  JOHN."  321 

Episcopal  Mission  Board.  This  gentleman  had  spent  ten  years 
in  China  as  a  missionary,  and  finding  the  Sacramento  schools 
flourishing  and  the  system  good,  adopted  it  entire  and  made  it 
general.  There  were,  in  1870,  seven  schools  in  San  Francisco, 
one  in  Oakland,  one  in  Santa  Clara,  one  in  San  Jose,  one  in 
Stockton,  two  in  Sacramento,  the  original  one  with  forty  scholars, 
one  in  Marys  vale,  one  in  Grass  Valley  and  three  in  Oregon,  at 
Salem  and  Portland.  The  largest  had  a  hundred  and  fifty 
scholars  on  the  list,  and  two  others  a  hundred  each  ;  the  average 
of  the  others  about  thirty.  In  all,  a  thousand  Chinese  were 
under  instruction,  with  an  average  regular  attendance  of  five 
hundred.  The  number  has  no  doubt  largely  increased  since  my 
estimate  was  made. 

They  learn  English  letters  and  spelling  rapidly,  but  cannot 
pronounce  the  r  or  the  th.  By  invitation  of  Rev.  O.  Gibson  I 
attended  the  Teachers'  Meeting  called  to  discuss  two  points: 
How  best  to  teach  English  ;  and,  How  far  to  teach  Christianity 
at  the  start.  It  was  concluded  to  first  teach  our  language,  social 
practices  and  customs  ;  then,  religion  specifically. 

Chinese  religion  is  a  strange  study :  a  queer,  cold,  uninviting, 
chilly  and  repellant  theology.  In  conversations  with  the  mis- 
sionary, interpeters,  and  two  Chinese  merchants  of  my  acquaint- 
ance, I  was  convinced  that  the  race  would  give  it  up,  if  a  more 
vital  and  cheerful  belief  were  offered  in  its  stead. 

Boodhism  is  the  religion  of  profound  sorrow — of  deep,  deep, 
hopeless,  and  unutterable  gloom.  There  is  no  Mediator,  no  atone- 
ment, no  forgiveness,  no  redeeming  love  :  all  is  to  be  suffered  out, 
labored  out,  struggled  over,  agonized  through ;  and  fallen  man,  if 
forgiven  at  last,  is  only  forgiven  in  complete  negation.  Heaven 
is  not  a  positive  state;  only  an  escape  from  hell :  it  is  not  happi- 
ness, but  merely  the  negation  of  misery.  In  its  genius  is  nothing 
bright  or  joyous;  nothing  inspiring  in  its  theology.  It  is, 
simply,  sin  leads  to  suffering,  to  be  atoned  for  by  ages  of  misery. 
Its  public  ceremonies  have  their  funny  side,  too ;  but  only  to  the 
onlooking  Fanqui  (" White  Devil,"  or  "Scoffer").  Whether 
"John"  be  a  skeptic  or  believer,  the  ceremony  awakens  no 
mirth  in  his  mind. 
21 


Mother.  Aged  13.  Aged  16. 

MRS.  LAISUN  AND  DAUGHTERS. 

322 


BOODHISM.  323 

There  are  really  three  forms  of  opinion  in  China,  but  they  can 
hardly  be  denominated  so  many  religions :  Confucianism, 
Boodhism,  and  Taouism.  The  first  is  rather  a  system  of  philo- 
sophy, a  sort  of  addendum  to  their  religion,  as  nearly  all  China- 
men believe  to  some  extent  in  Confucius.  It  treats  of  the  "Five 
Relations"  and  duties  dependent  thereon  :  1st,  Rulers  and  Ruled, 
2d,  Parent  and  Child,  3d,  Husband  and  Wife,  4th,  Brothers, 
and  5th,  Friends.  The  instructions  are  very  minute,  even 
telling  one  how  to  walk  when  visiting  a  friend.  Some  adopt 
Confucianism  so  far  as  to  practically  disbelieve  the  rest ;  in  short, 
become  infidels.  Some  of  these  in  California  are  quite  well 
acquainted  with  the  New  Testament,  and  consider  its  principles 
quite  good  in  themselves ;  but  as  drawing  the  line  too  close,  and 
quite  too  high  and  sublime  for  mortals.  But  they  have  no  idea 
of  the  Atonement;  it  seems  nearly  impossible  for  even  the  most 
intelligent  to  form  any  conception  of  it.  "Dead  Works  "are  the 
only  foundation  they  build  upon  :  even  if  a  man  should,  from 
to-day  henceforth,  do  exactly  right,  he  must  be  put  through  one 
or  more  of  the  chambers  of  hell  to  pay  him  for  what  he  has 
already  done.  Boodhism,  their  religion  proper,  is  a  system  of 
idolatry  introduced  fro-m  India  many  centuries  ago.  It  deifies 
the  remarkable  dead.  Its  grand  idea  is,  to  attain  to  a  state  of 
perfect  repose — soul  and  body  utterly  without  emotion — this  is 
perfect  bliss  and  highest  good.  From  their  description,  it  would 
be  to  us  perfect  nonentity.  Hence  the  general  statement  that 
"Annihilation  is  the  Boodhist  Heaven;"  still  that  does  not  seem 
to  be  their  precise  idea.  It  is  still  perfect  consciousness,  but 
without  any  of  the  ideas  or  emotions  which,  in  this  state,  result 
from  consciousness.  Faithful  devotees  are  to  become  Boodhs, 
though  the  original  Boodh  was  the  Creator.  Men  are  to 
become  inferior  Boodhs  by  absorbing  the  spirit  of  Boodh.  One 
year  of  his  equals  twenty-five  million  common  years.  In  this 
they  beat  the  Mormons,  who  only  make  "one  year  of  the  Lord  " 
equal  to  a  thousand  common  years. 

Taouism  (Tah-oo-ism)  is  a  system  of  spiritual  philosophy, 
filling  all  creation  with  an  infinity  of  spirits.  Just  above  the 
heads  of  mortals  is  the  region  of  the  gods.  This  sect  have  per- 


324  SPIRITUALISM. 


CHINESE  STUDENTS— NOW  AT   SPRINGFIELD,   MASS. 

formed  all  the  wonders  of  modern  Spiritualism  for  five  hundred 
years;  and  probably  to  as  little  purpose.  Its  founder's  name 
was  Low  Chee,  literally  translated,  "  old  boy  ;  "  and  according  to 
the  tradition  he  was  eighty  years  old  the  day  he  was  born.  The 
last  seen  of  him  he  was  flying  away  westward  on  a  blue  cow. 
Whether  another  "  old  boy "  of  whom  we  have  heard  was 
the  founder  of  our  Spiritualism,  I  leave  believers  to  determine; 
but  I  have  my  suspicions. 

All  three,  in  forms  and  ceremonies,  mingle  till  it  is  difficult 
to  distinguish.  So  grand  a  system  of  theology,  with  all  its  ad- 
juncts and  minor  points  of  faith,  fixed  as  tending  to  a  certain 
end  and  able  to  impress  a  whole  people,  seems  to  have  required 
in  its  origin  as  much  intense  thought  and  creative  power  of 
imagination  as  our  own  system. 

The  greatest  difficulty  of  the  Chinese  question  may  be  briefly 
stated  '.families  do  not  immigrate.  Few  women  come,  and  nearly 
all  of  these  few  for  the  vilest  purposes.  Girls  of  only  twelve 
or  thirteen  years  are  brought  over,  sometimes  kidnapped,  no 
doubt,  and  "  thrown  upon  the  town ; "  such  may  be  seen  in  every 
alley  in  Chinatown,  frequently  accosting  the  passing  white  man 
in  words  which  it  is  a  shame  even  to  hear.  I  am  reliably  in- 
formed that  there  are  not  in  America  five  hundred  reputable 


CHINESE  SCHOLARS. 


325 


women  of  the  race.  Of  the  pure  or  yellow  Chinese,  there  are 
but  few  men,  and  only  a  dozen  women.  Mrs.  Laisun  and  her 
daughters  are  specimens  of  the  best  class  of  Chinese  ladies. 

Already  there  is  quite  a  class  of  Chinese  and  half-blood  chil- 
dren native  to  the  Pacific  Coast,  who  speak  English  fluently 
and  look  decidedly  American.  Many  are  being  well  educated, 
and  there  are  more  Chinese  now  in  our  schools  than  is  generally 
imagined.  Ah  Wing  graduated  from  Yale  eight  years  ago  with 
high  honors,  and  the  lads  now  in  school  at  Springfield,  Mass., 
are  evidently  of  superior  talents.  Perhaps  there  is  more  hope 
for  "  John  "  than  appeared  in  the  setting  out.  These  few  strag- 
glers from  the  four  hundred  millions  of  China  did  not  come 
here  by  the  wish  of  their  own  Government ;  still  less  at  the 
desire  of  either  our  Government  or  people.  Why  then  did  they 
come  ? 

Is  it  not  reasonable  to  suppose  that  a  Higher  Power  is  bring- 
ing a  few  millions  of  that  people  here  to  learn  our  civilization 
and  religion,  and  carry  Christianity  and  its  attendant  blessings 
to  their  own  country  ?  If  so,  how  have  we,  the  superior  and 
Christian  race,  fulfilled  our  part  of  the  scheme  ? 


X 


A   HIGH   CASTE   MANDARIN. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

MINES   AND    MINING. 

A  prospect — Outline  of  mining  region — The  Cotton  woods — How  I  came  there — 
Mormon  anti-mining  sermons — The  dry  summer — Unhealthfulness  of  Salt  Lake 
City — I  goto  the  mountains — "Prospectors" — We  hunt  a  mine  —  Mode  of 
silver  mining — Different  in  gold  mining — One  chance  in  twenty-five  thousand 
for  an  "  Emma  "  or  "  Comstock  " — "  Struck  a  horse  " — Over  to  Big  Cotton- 
wood — Fire  in  the  mountains — Promise  of  war  in  Utah — False  alarm — Off  for 
Bingham — Chicago  fire — Thence  to  East  Canon  —  I  invest — And  come  out 
minus.  • 

PROSPECT  CAMP,  WASATCH  MOUNTAINS,  U.  T., 

September  25,  1871. 

AM  sitting  at  the  door  of  a  frame  and  canvas  cabin,  ten 
feet  by  twelve ;  as  near  as  I  can  determine,  a  thousand 
feet  below  the  highest  point  in  the  Wasatch  Range,  seven 
thousand  above  Salt  Lake,  and  eleven  thousand  higher 
than  the  level  of  the  sea.  We  have  thawed  a  little  ice  from 
our  water  buckets  this  morning,  and  taken  a  hot  breakfast ;  my 
companions  are  off  down  the  mountain  side,  picking  at  "  indica- 
tions," and  mapping  out  the  "run  of  the  country  rock,"  and  at 
10  A.  M.  I  find  my  fingers  warm  and  pliant  enough  for  the 
pencil.  A  party  of  prospectors  from  Uintah,  working  their 
toilsome  way  through  the  mountains  to  Camp  Floyd,  have  just 
halted  to  drink  and  gossip.  The  men  look  haggard,  and  ragged 
with  toil  and  exposure,  while  the  horses'  breath  steams  up,  as 
in  an  eastern  winter,  and  their  manes  and  tails  still  show  traces 
of  the  frost  of  last  night.  Four  rivers  head  within  five  miles  of 
me.  To  the  south  the  rugged  cliffs  fall  off  abruptly  to  a  deep 
cafion,  from  which  the  Timpanogos  or  Provo  flows  out  to  Utah 
Lake ;  a  little  farther  west  is  the  American  Fork,  and  far  down 
the  valley  a  faint  green  and  blue  haze  marks  the  location  of 
Provo  City ;  beyond  it  a  faint  cloudy  whiteness  proves  to  be 
326 


HEAD   OF   FIVE    RIVERS. 


327 


Utah  Lake ;  while  the  West  Mountains  (Oquirrh)  are  yet  hidden 
in  the  morning  haze.  The  cliff  behind  me  shuts  off  the  view- 
down  the  other  rivers. 

If  the  reader  will  take  a  map  of  Utah,  and  from  the  Colorado 
follow  up  its  main  western  affluent,  the  Uintah,  he  will  find  it 
heading  in  a  range  of  peaks  very  near  the  center  of  this  Terri- 
tory. Then  begin  two  hundred  miles  west,  on  the  Jordan,  and 
follow  up  its  main  affluents,  Mill  Creek  and  the  jCottonwoods ; 
they  will  be  found  to  head  in  the  same  peaks.  Go  off  from  the 
latter  a  hundred  miles  north  to  the  Weber,  and  trace  its  head 
to  the  same  range. 
Then  a  hundred 
miles  southwest  to 
Utah  Lake,  and 
thence  following  up 
American  and  Tim- 
panogos  Rivers,  you 
will  fi  n  d  their 
sources  very  near 
the  others,  and  just 
below  where  I  am 
sitting.  In  and 
around  these  peaks, 
on  the  west  side 
particularly,  will  be 
found  the  oldest  and 
best  developed  sil- 
ver mines  of  Utah. 

The  season  is  at 
best  but  five  months  long;  snow  lies  upon  the  flats  till  June 
and  falls  in  September.  The  outlook  is  upon  horrid  peaks  and 
gloomy  defiles,  while  the  slopes  above  the  timber  line  are  envel- 
oped half  the  time  in  chilling  damps,  and  the  other  half  swept 
by  furious  winds.  Farther  down,  groves  of  timber  produce  a 
climate  which,  to  one  going  from  here,  seems  almost  elysian, 
and  are  dotted  thickly  with  the  cabins  of  miners,  who  do  endure 
the  location  somehow,  and  work  their  claims  three-fourths  of  the 


AT  "BROWN  AND  SLOPER'S. 


328  MINING   AND   PROPHECY. 

year.  Take  it  at  the  best,  it  is  a  hard,  hard  life.  But  there  is 
silver  here — no  longer  any  doubt  on  that  point — and  a  commu- 
nity of  active  and  enduring  Gentiles  is  springing  into  life  upon 
the  very  tops  of  these  cold  and  forbidding  mountains. 

But  how  did  I  get  here  ? 

Behind  waits  a  brief  narration,  for  I  have  followed  the  advice 
of  Horace  to  epic  poets,  to  plunge  in  medias  res — freely  trans- 
lated, "  into  the  middle  of  things." 

After  a  lengthy  stay  in  California,  and  journeyings  not  set 
down  in  this  chronicle,  I  returned  to  Salt  Lake  City  to  find  all  my 
friends  wild  on  silver  mines.  Everybody  was  talking  about "  feet/' 
"prospects,"  "indications,"  "specimens,"  "assays "and  "divi- 
dends;" and  I  soon  caught  the  same  disease.  There  were  two  or 
three  thousand  Gentiles  in  the  city  speculating  in  mines  and 
miners',  five  thousand  more  in  the  mountains  hunting  for  mines, 
and  perhaps  two  thousand  actually  working  mines.  All  was  con- 
fined to  the  Gentiles  as  yet,  and  by  that  beautiful  spirit  of 
contradiction  which  prevails  in  Utah,  the  priesthood  were  ser- 
monizing against  mines  and  anathematizing  every  body  who  took 
stock  in  them.  Three  months  after  they  were  investing  heavily. 
Now  they  claim  that  "  the  Lord  "  revealed  the  existence  of  these 
mines  to  Brigham,  but  told  him  they  must  not  be  worked  till 
"  in  His  own  good  time  He  uncovered  them."  Capital  after- 
thought. 

Mormonism  is  the  handiest  religion  in  the  world — for  an 
argument.  If  "  the  brethren"  prosper,  it  is  the  blessing  of  the 
Lord  on  the  faithful ;  if  they  fail  and  suffer,  "  The  judgments  of 
the  Lord  begin  at  the* house  of  the  Lord."  If  an  "apostate" 
suffers,  it  is  at  once  pronounced  "a  judgment ;"  if  he  prosper, 
"the  devil  takes  care  of  his  own."  It  is  a  sure  thing  either 
way — "  heads,  I  win ;  tails,  you  lose."  The  Mormons  now 
propose  to  become  a  mining  people. 

It  was  the  notable  "dry  season  of  1871,"  and  Salt  Lake  City 
soon  grew  intolerable  to  me.  The  atmosphere  was  very  un- 
healthy. Fifty-five  persons  had  died  in  three  weeks,  in  a 
population  of  fourteen  thousand.  Two-thirds  of  the  people 
were  complaining  of  something. 


ROUTE  TO  THE   MINES.  329 

I  had  come  from  California  in  the  best  of  health,  and  in  one 
week  was  prostrated  with  nervousness  and  indigestion.  Such  a 
season  had  not  been  known  in  Salt  Lake  since  the  notable 
"  famine  year."  In  view  of  these  facts,  I  took  stage  for  the  hills. 

The  evening  before  the  clouds  were  lowering  darkly  over  the 
Wasatch,  and  I  waked  to  see  her  peaks  glistening  with  the 
first  snow  of  the  season.  But  delay  would  not  mend  the 
matter;  I  was  soon  seated  in  a  "jerky,"  and  in  three  hours 
reached  the  mouth  of  Little  Cotton  wood  Cafion,  sixteen  miles 
southeast  of  the  city.  The  " Equinoctial  storm"  (liable,  by  the 
way,  to  occur  some  time  between  July  and  November,)  had  fully 
set  in,  and  seemed  to  move  towards  the  mountain  at  an  even 
pace  with  the  coach.  In  these  enclosed  basins  clouds  rise  from 
the  lakes  and  marshes  and  float  away,  without  shedding  their 
moisture,  to  the  mountains ;  there  they  are  checked  and  fall  in 
rain,  causing  the  mountain  sides  to  be  covered  with  dense 
timber,  while  the  valleys  are  always  bare. 

The  ten-mile  route  of  rocky  uphill  to  Central  City,  center  of 
the  mining  region,  is  toilsome  and  appears  dangerous.  A  damp, 
numbing  wind  swept  down  the  canon,  growing  colder  every 
mile,  till  overcoats  and  gloves  failed  to  secure  warmth ;  while 
above  and  around  us  everywhere  the  peaks  glistened  with  snow, 
seeming  by  imagination  to  add  to  the  cold,  and  by  the  middle 
of  the  afternoon  we  saw  the  trees  on  the  slopes  gray  white  with 
rime,  and  knew  that  we  had  invaded  the  domain  of  winter. 

All  was  not  peace  in  Central  City.  The  night  of  my  arrival 
was  signalized  by  a  general  free  fight,  in  which  some  twenty 
shots  were  fired,  one  of  which  struck  in  an  upper  room  of  our 
hotel.  The  impression  goes  out  that  miners  are  a  quarrelsome 
set.  Exactly  the  reverse  is  the  fact;  they  are  exceptionally  quiet 
and  peaceful.  But  they  are  careless  and  free  with  money;  their 
mode  of  life  engenders  a  love  of  gaming,  and  following  close 
upon  them,  about  all  mining  towns,  is  a  "  float "  of  gamblers, 
strikers,  demi-reps  and  dancing  girls.  A  camp  is  always  con- 
sidered prosperous  where  they  are  plenty,  and  Central  had  a 
surplus.  I  took  a  two  days'  rest  there  to  get  accustomed  to  the 
mountain  air;  then  took  a  mule  ride  to  the  foot  of  the  cliff, 


330 


LITTLE  PLEASANTRIES  OF  A  MINING  CAMP. 

which  is  beyond  the  reach  of  any  vehicle.  Another  day's  rest 
qualified  me  for  the  last  climb,  and  next  morning  I  left  Bay  view 
Lake,  a  beautiful  mountain  tarn  walled  in  by  blue  limestone — 
some  sixteen  hundred  feet  below  the  camp  of  my  friends,  known 
here  as  Brown  &  Sloper's  Camp. 

"  Prospect"  does  not  refer  to  the  fine  view,  as  romantic  readers 
may  imagine;  it  means  simply  a  camp  of  prospectors.  And 
who  are  prospectors?  They  are  a  strange,  romantic  race  of 
treasure  hunters,  scattered  all  over  this  mountain  country. 
They  are  never  at  rest;  hunting  for  lodes,  developing  and 
selling  out;  in  a  poor  camp  longing  for  a  good  one,  in  a  good 
one  longing  for  a  better,  and  if  perchance  they  "strike  it  rich/' 


SCIENCE   AND    BUSINESS.  331 

nine  times  out  often  they  sell  quickly,  spend  the  money  lavishly, 
and  are  off  to  prospect  again.  The  man  who  has  prospected  a 
few  years  rarely  settles  into  a  regular  miner;  though  the  latter 
often  prospects  to  find  his  own  claim  before  working  it.  Of 
course  they  are  a  peculiar  race;  of  course  they  are  superstitious 
about  luck,  have  strange  theories  about  lode-formation,  preju- 
dices about  the  "run  of  the  rock/7  and  undoubted  faith  in  their 
own  future,  and  all  expect  soon  or  late  to  discover  and  develop  a 
"Comstock"  or  an  "  Emma.'7  How  many  of  my  readers  ever 
saw  a  prospect  for  silver,  or  could  trace  a  vein  from  surface 
indications,  "crop/7  "float/7  etc.?  For  silver  mining  in  the 
United  States  is  a  new  thing,  and  your  returned  Californians, 
who  may  have  spent  half  a  lifetime  in  placer  gold  diggings, 
would  know  nothing  therefrom  of  silver  mining.  Miners  read 
the  Scripture  thus:  "  Surely  there  is  a  vein  for  silver,  and  a 
place  for  the  gold  where  they  find  it.'7  By  this  they  mean  that 
silver  generally  (not  always)  runs  in  lodes,  defined  ledges,  layers 
in  wall  rock;  but  gold  is  "where  you  find  it77 — in  placer  fiats, 
beds  of  wash  gravel,  "  pay  dirt/7  eddies  in  shallow  streams  with 
natural  "cleats77  in  the  bed-rock,  and  in  the  dry  flumes  of 
extinct  rivers.  Silver  mines — that  is,  real  mines — have  a 
defined  seam;  their  extent  can  be  measured,  their  richness  esti- 
mated, and  the  time  required  to  get  out  the  ore  and  its  value 
per  ton ;  the  stock  is  put  upon  the  market,  quoted  and  sold  as 
legitimately  as  corn  or  wheat.  Gold  discovery  is  often  an 
accident,  creating  an  "excitement;77  silver  mining  is  an  enduring 
industry,  growing  slowly  through  many  years — except  in  the 
rare  cases  of  chloride  flats,  horn-silver,  etc.,  as  at  White  Pine — 
lasting  ten  or  twenty  or  hundreds  of  years,  according  to  whether 
the  discovery  proves  to  be  a  "chamber/7  "pocket/'  or  "de- 
posit/7 or  a  "  true  fissure  vein." 

Come  with  me,  then,  and  let  us  in  imagination  follow  our 
"  prospectors/7  now  a  thousand  feet  below  me,  and  from  their 
present  action  appearing  to  have  "  struck  something 77  half-way 
down  the  cliff,  where  the  limestone  formation  changes  suddenly 
to  slate  and  quartzite.  This  change  is  an  important  matter  to 
us  here ;  for  in  looking  for  a  vein  of  silver  we  are  guided  by 


332 


A   COMPARISON. 


PROSPECTING   PARTY— IN  UTAH. 


a  system  of  la\vs.  There  are  many  exceptions,  but  the  laws  are 
almost  invariable  on  the  negative  side;  we  can  tell  positively 
where  silver  is  not,  but  can  not  always  tell  where  it  is. 

First,  of  course,  we  look  for  evidence  of  volcanic  action.  We 
would  not  expect  to  find  silver  in  any  quantity  in  a  low  valley 
or  level  country,  for  it  is  one  of  the  heaviest  metals,  and  must  be 
forced  in  some  way  to  the  surface.  We  start  up  the  mountains, 
but  in  the  hills  near  their  base,  the  rock  is  covered  with  heavy 
deposits  of  soil,  and  silver  may  be  there,  but  it  is  hard  to  deter- 
mine. We  want  to  get  up  to  the  region  of  "  geologic  inter- 
ruptions," where  the  strata  are  heaved  upon  edge  and  overlap 
each  other.  If  a  jelly  cake  of  six  or  eight  layers  be  taken  to 
represent  the  earth's  crust,  from  granite  up  through  quartzite, 
plate  and  limestone  to  the  soil,  then  strike  the  cake  underneath, 
knock  it  up  into  ridges  and  layers  standing  nearly  perpendicular, 
the  bottom  one  in  places  overlapping  the  top  one,  and  the  jelly 
slowly  settling  back  except  where  it  is  caught  and  confined  by 
crevice  or  wall  of  harder  material,  and  you  will  have  a  tolerable 


"  FLOAT."  333 

map  of  a  mining  region  :  the  surface  denuded  to  a  bare  skeleton 
of  the  original  mountain,  the  backbone  of  the  range  where  the 
ledges  are  laid  open. 

But  another  element  enters  into  this  calculation — the  heat 
which  was  active  in  the  formation  of  the  lodes;  so  the  silver  and 
lead  thrown  up  by  the  primal  convulsion,  either  burst  their 
way  through  solid  rock,  and  formed  lodes  thousands  of  feet  in 
length,  or  lacking  force,  the  fluid  turned  aside  to  existing  crevices, 
or  "blew  out"  through  hollow  chambers,  which  so  often  mis- 
lead the  miner.  To  each  variety  of  these  side  affairs  a  specific 
and  descriptive  name  is  given,  whence  all  the  strange  terms  in 
mining  parlance:  "  true  lodes,  fissure-veins,  pinches,  pockets, 
deposits,  chambers,  blow-outs,  chimneys,  Jumerols,  dips,  spurs, 
angles,  variations  and  sinuosities."  But  few  of  any  of  these, 
however,  reach  the  surface  to  guide  us;  even  where  lodes  "crop 
out,"  the  top  rock  is  rarely  of  the  same  nature  as  that  in  the 
vein.  Having  found  evidences  of  volcanic  action,  as  we  "pros- 
pect" up  the  mountains,  the  first  thing  we  look  for  is  "float."  This 
consists  of  mineral  broken  off  from  "  croppings,"  or  thrown  out 
or  washed  out  from  fissures.  It  is  of  almost  infinite  varieties ; 
in  general  any  piece  of  detached  rock,  big  or  little,  "  carrying 
indications  of  galena,"  is  "float."  Abundance  of  "float"  on 
our  line  shows  that  the  lode  is — somewhere.  But  where?  The 
majority  of  prospectors  say  it  must  be  uphill  from  the  "float;" 
but  a  respectable  minority  maintain  that  it  may  be  downhill; 
and  I  suspect  they  are  right,  as  the  hills  may  have  changed 
their  level  since  the  "float"  was  deposited,  or  it  may  have  been 
carried  by  other  means  than  the  common  wear  of  the  elements. 
So  we  must  "  trace." 

We  are  often  assisted  by  mineral  stain,  particularly  where 
water  exudes  from  the  rock.  Copper  stain  is  generally  green, 
and  may  or  may  not  exist  with  silver ;  iron  stain  is  red,  and 
seldom  exists  with  silver;  lead  stain  is  of  various  shades,  all 
easily  known,  and  lead  is  never  found  without  some  silver.  The 
"Pittsburg"  mine  in  American  Fork  was  developed  by  digging 
merely  from  a  deep  lead  stain  ;  but  they  had  other  fine  indica- 
tions, particularly  that  the  formation  changed  there  from  slate 


334  THE   CHANCES. 

to  limestone.  "Between  the  runs  of  country  rock"  is  the 
best  place  to  look  for  a  vein  ;  next  to  both  walls  being  granite,  a 
'ifootwali"  of  slate  or  porphyry,  and  a  hanging  wall  of  other 
rock  is  to  be  preferred.  From  reasons  given  above,  we  are  more 
apt  to  find  our  lode  continuous  if  it  is  between  two  formations. 
At  the  "  Pitteburg"  stain  they  dug  and  struck  a  rich  vein  of 
carbonate  ore  in  ten  feet.  Along  that  line  between  those  two 
formations  a  hundred  locations  now  extend  for  two  miles. 

Our  mineral  stain,  then,  is  encouraging,  but  by  no  means 
assures  us  of  a  good  lode;  for  that  we  must  dig.  When  we  have 
found  the  "float"  thick  enough  to  suit  us ;  when  there  is  the  right 
stain  on  the  rock  ;  when  we  are  sure  of  the  strata  being  right, 
then  we  must  dig.  Do  we  find  a  faint  vein  going  down,  though 
no  thicker  than  a  knife-blade?  Do  we  encounter  silica,  ochre, 
or  small  brittle  chunks  of  galena,  and  do  we  find  a  wall  with 
clay  selvage?  Then  we  dig  on  until  other  indications  warn  us 
we  might  as  well  stop  and  save  our  money.  We  may  be  fooled 
at  last.  It  may  be  a  trifling  crevice,  formed  by  infiltration  from 
some  larger  vein;  it  may  be  a  "chimney"  from  some  lode  ten 
thousand  feet  away  through  solid  rock,  and  it  may  be  any  one 
of  the  fifty  other  disappointments.  Of  all  "prospects"  struck, 
one  in  five  becomes  a  location  ;  one  location  in  five  is  pushed  to 
some  depth.  Of  those  so  pushed,  one  in  ten  pays  something 
more  than  expenses,  and  become  real  mines,  and  of  real  mines 
one  in  a  hundred  develops  intp  an  "Emma"  or  a  "Comstock." 

Logical  reduction:  The  "prospectors"  must  strike,  locate 
and  develop  twenty-five  thousand  times  before  he  realizes  his  big 
expectations.  For  every  dollar  taken  out  of  mines,  eighty  cents 
are  spent;  but  that  leaves  a  dollar  and  eighty  cents  in  the 
country.  Let  us  therefore  encourage  mining. 

Under  the  general  fact  that  lodes  are  formed  by  volcanic 
action  are  many  minor  theories,  each  camp  having  a  sort  of 
science  of  its  own,  as  there  is  a  wide  difference  "in  the  indi- 
cations" of  any  two  camps.  The  following,  for  instance,  I  find 
to  be  universal  in  Cotton  wood  :  In  places  far  removed  from  the 
origin  of  the  ore,  the  primal  impetus  was  barely  sufficient  to 
force  the  ore  to  a  certain  hight;  there  meeting  with  obstructions, 


"  A    HOUSE."  335 

the  fluid  column  turned  into  crevices  already  existing.  These 
natural  fissures  are  generally  nearly  horizontal.  Hence,  in  fol- 
lowing down  the  first  fissure  struck,  if  it  gradually  changes  from 
the  horizontal  to  the  perpendicular,  this  is  taken  as  an  indication 
that  one  is  nearing  the  original  source  of  the  ore,  getting 
towards  where  it  first  started,  and  had  force  enough  to  burst 
straight  upward  through  the  solid  rock.  But,  during  this  primal 
convulsion,  immense  masses  of  limestone,  quartzite,  porphyry, 
granite  and  other  hard  rocks  fell  back  into  the  liquid  ore;  and 
these  now  present  sudden  interruptions  in  even  the  most  regular 
veins.  Indeed,  some  theorists  maintain  that  unless  these 
"  wedges"  had  fallen  in,  there  would  have  been  no  lode,  as  the 
walls  would  have  settled  together,  completely  closing  the  fissure. 
But,  of  course,  the  opening  is  not  perfectly  regular;  and  a  little 
calculation  will  show,  I  think,  that  there  is  not  one  chance  in  a 
thousand  of  the  whole  mountain  side  settling  back  exactly  as  it 
separated,  so  that  the  bulge  on  one  side  would  strike  the  hollow 
on  the  other  whence  it  came,  and  unless  it  did  so,  there  would 
not  be  a  complete  closing. 

Such  an  interruption  is  known  among  miners  as  a  "horse/' and 
generally  a  small  portion  of  the  vein  (or  lode)  .can  still  be  traced 
around  or  under  it.  So,  when  a  miner  following  his  shaft  finds  it 
suddenly  stopped  by  a"  wall  of  dead  rock,"  (without  metal),  it  may 
be  from  either  of  three  causes  :  the  obstruction  may  be  a  "  horse," 
from  a  foot  to  five  rods  thick ;  his  supposed  lode  may  be  a  mere 
"  pocket,"  ending  then  and  there ;  or  he  may  still  be  only  in  one 
of  the  "  side  fissures,"  which  has  taken  a  sudden  turn,  "pinching 
out"  for  a  few  rods,  or  "  doubling  back  on  the  ledge."  In  such 
cases  science  seems  to  be  at  fault ;  and  though  of  the  highest 
importance  to  the  practical  miner,  no  two  agree  as  to  the  mean- 
ing of  the  "indications."  The  miner's  only  recourse  is  to  pick  and 
blast,  onward  or  downward,  until  he  finds  something,  or  con- 
vinces himself  there  is  nothing. 

Sometimes,  again,  the  miner  starts  with  a  vein  a  foot  or  more 
wide,  expecting  to  reach  the  main  lode  very  soon  ;  but  finds  it 
narrowing  rapidly  to  an  inch  in  width  ;  then  it  suddenly 
"chambers"  to  some  size,  then  "pinches"  to  the  thickness  of  a 


336  SUMMIT   OF   BALD    PEAK. 

knife  blade,  or  sinks  to  a  mere  stain  on  the  wall  rock,  and  so  on 
"pinching"  and  "pocketing"  alternately  towards  the  interior. 
My  friends  in  the  "  Kentucky"  followed  such  a  "  pinching"  vein  for 
a  hundred  feet,  when  it  terminated  in  a  "  chamber  "  about  the  size 
of  a  barrel  and  full  of  rich  ore ;  and  that  was  the  last  of  that  vein. 
The  vein  of  the  celebrated  "Emma"  was  followed  nearly  two 
hundred  feet  before  they  struck  ''good  pay-rock." 

From  Bayview  I  came  down  to  more  temperate  regions,  and 
inspected  all  the  mines  south  of  Central  City,  seriatim.  At  noon 
of  the  last  day  we  were  at  the  "Peruvian,"  and  four  thousand 
feet  above  us  towered  the  top  of  Bald  Peak.  It  was  stated  by 
the  miners,  that  no  visitor  had  ever  reached  it  the  first  day,  which 
excited  our  ambition,  and  we  determined  on  the  attempt. 
Striking  directly  up  the  bare  mountain  side,  which  inclines  in 
the  upper  part  at  least  sixty  degrees,  we  struggled  on  for  three 
hours,  to  the  highest  point  on  the  Wasatch  Range — 12,000  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  sea.  A  breath  of  relief  and  a  long  look 
around  the  horizon  were  succeeded  by  astonishment  and  awe, 
which  held  us  long  in  subdued  silence. 

A  hundred  miles  to  the  north-east,  Medicine  Butte  rose  in 
plain  view;  a  hundred  miles  south  appeared  the  peaks  of  Iron 
Mountain  and  Mount  Nebo ;  as  far  to  the  east,  the  slopes  above 
Uintah  River ;  while  all  the  northern  and  southern  shores  of 
Great  Salt  Lake  could  be  traced  as  easily  as  upon  a  map :  one 
comprehensive  view  of  thirty  thousand  square  miles  of  moun- 
tain, valley  and  gorge,  fringed  by  clouds  below  our  level  and 
lighted  up  by  the  declining  sun.  Salt  Lake  City  was  hidden 
from  our  sight  by  the  Twin  Peaks ;  but  above  that  place  the 
whole  of  Jordan  Valley  lay  in  plain  view,  with  the  river  down 
the  center  like  an  irregular  band  of  silver.  The  air  was  unusually 
clear,  as  is  common  just  after  the  first  autumnal  storm,  and 
we  could  scarcely  have  found  a  more  favorable  day  for  the  view 
in  the  entire  year.  The  descent  was  much  faster  than  the  ascent 
had  been,  though,  in  proportion  to  time,  much  more  wearisome; 
but  we  reached  our  cabin  by  dark,  and  soon  after  slept  the  sleep 
of  the  just  and  the  weary. 

The  two  days  following,  I  visited  the  mines  on  tne  northern 


PRESENT   CONDITION. 


OVER   TO  BIG   COTTONWOOD. 

22 


side.  From  thirty 
to  forty  tons  of  ore 
daily  were  leaving  the 
cafion,  good  for  an  average 
profit  of  a  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars  per  ton.  The 
quantity  was  increasing 
rapidly,  and  still  continues 
to  increase. 

Everything  else  has 
changed  wondrously.  Min- 
ers and  Gentiles  have  taken 
possession  of  the  region.  At 
the  mouth  of  the  canon 
stands  the  beautiful  village 
of  Emmaville,  inhabited  by 
miners  and  their  families;  a 
mile  above  it  is  Granite- 
ville,  erected  entirely  by 
the  business  about  Colonel 
David  BuePs  great  smelt- 
ing works,  and  further  up 
in  the  mining  regions  are 
Alta  and  Central  City, 
containing  together  some 
six  hundred  inhabitants. 


338  A    DAY    OF   CLIMBING. 

Big  Cottonwood  lies  just  north  of  Little  Cottonwood,  sepa- 
rated by  a  rocky  ridge,  barely  passable  at  two  or  three 
places ;  and  the  last  day  I  was  on  the  northern  side,  the  air  in 
that  direction  seemed  to  grow  more  hazy  than  usual.  Looking 
northward,  we  saw  the  whole  sky  of  a  peculiar  ash  and  copper 
color,  and  old  mountaineers  shook  their  heads  ominously,  and 
said :  "  The  fire  is  out  in  Big  Cotton  wood."  From  where  I 
stood  it  was  not  more  than  eight  miles  in  a  direct  line,  to  the 
noted  lake  at  the  head  of  Big  Cottonwood,  where  the  Mormons 
celebrate  the  24th  of  July — "Anniversary  Day ;"  but  it  was  im- 
possible to  reach  it  along  the  cliffs,  and  we  must  descend  into  Little 
Cottonwood,  and  pass  over  another  "  divide,"  to  what  is  known 
as  Silver  Fork,  opening  into  the  other  canon.  Next  morning  the 
mountain  tops  were  shrouded  in  smoke,  and  I  spent  the  day  in 
Little  Cottonwood,  hearing  reports  from  the  other  side.  About 
4  P.  M.  a  great  white  column  shot  into  the  sky  for  thousands  of 
feet,  apparently  just  over  the  "divide,"  then  swaying  back  and 
forth  settled  into  the  shape  of  an  immense  cone,  and  we  knew 
to  a  certainty  that  the  wind  was  "down  the  caiion,"  and  conse- 
quently the  fire  nearing  the  town  and  smelting  works.  It  took 
me  all  the  next  day  to  pass  the  "divide,^  for  the  lowest  point  on 
the  ridge  is  three  thousand  five  hundred  feet  above  Central,  and 
the  descent  still  greater  on  the  northern  side. 

If  the  reader  has  ever  run  up  a  steep  pair  of  stairs,  let  hifii 
imagine  two  hundred  such  in  succession,  varied  with  jutting  rocks 
and  boulders,  and  that  in  an  atmosphere  so  light  that  dyspnosa 
results  from  the  slightest  exertion,  and  he  will  have  a  faint  idea 
of  this  climb.  It  is  amusing  to  notice  new  comers  and  watch 
its  effect  upon  them.  Some  men  get  used  to  the  rarefied  air  in  a 
few  days;  others  labor  in  breathing  for  weeks  or  months, 
and  still  others  never  gain  in  breathing  capacity.  Stranger  still, 
it  is  not  the  stoutest  men  always  who  take  most  easily  to  the 
hills.  The  best  mountaineer  in  this  camp  is  just  my  size, 
(one  hundred  and  twenty-five  pounds,)  and  of  very  slender 
limbs,  without  an  ounce  of  fat,  but  he  has  large  hands  and  feet, 
and  a  chest  like  a  gorilla. 

When  I  reached  that  side  the  fire  was  still  a  mile  above,  but, 


AN   AWFUL   SIGHT.  339 

moving  slowly  on  the  town.  When  night  fell  the  scene  was 
indescribably  grand.  From  the  summit  of  Granite  Mountain, 
dividing  the  heads  of  Big  and  Little  Cottonwoods,  down  through 
the  lake  region  and  "  Mill  Caflon,"  to  the  tops  of  Uintah  Hills, 
for  eight  miles  in  a  semicircle  around  and  above  us,  the  view 
was  bounded  by  great  swaying  sheets  of  flame.  The  sky  to  the 
zenith  was  a  bright  blood  red,  and  down  to  the  west  a  gleaming 
waxy  yellow;  while  almost  over  us  Honeycomb  Peak,  where 
the  timber  had  burned  to  a  coal,  and  which  was  divided  from 
us  by  a  large  rocky  gorge,  stood  out  detached  and  glowing  red 
like  a  volcano  outlined  against  the  sky. 

Morning  came,  and  with  it  detachments  of  miners  from 
neighboring  camps,  working  their  way  through  the  lower  defiles, 
to  fell  timber  and  "  burn  against  the  fire."  The  town  is  in  a 
grove  of  quaking  asp,  and  was  in  no  great  danger ;  but  across 
Cottonwood  Creek,  where  the  Smelting  Works  stand,  the  growth 
is  mountain  pine,  which  burns  green  or  dry.  The  whole  capon 
was  so  full  of  smoke  that  the  sun  could  barely  be  discerned,  and 
the  pyrotechnics  of  the  night  had  given  place  to  a  deathlike 
gloom.  From  the  creek  to  the  mountain  summit  south  was  a 
roaring  mass  of  flames,  when  at  noon  the  wind  suddenly  changed, 
and  for  twenty-four  hours  blew  almost  a  hurricane  up  the  cafion. 
The  timber  had  been  felled  for  two  hundred  yards  around  the 
works;  it  was  now  set  on  fire  and  the  great  business  enterprise 
of  this  camp  was  saved.  After  the  day  of  wind  came  rain,  then 
snow,  and  next  morning  the  latter,  four  inches  deep,  was  melting 
slowly  into  black  mud. 

A  week  in  Big  Cottonwood  convinced  me  there  was  a  great 
deal  to  learn  about  mining,  and  I  was  about  to  start  on  a  vigor- 
ous campaign  against  the  hills,  when  the  semi-weekly  mail 
arrived  from  the  city  bringing  news.  Judge  McKean's  Court 
had  reached  a  decisive  point,  and  matters  looked  warlike.  Two 
letters  I  received  spoilt  my  appetite  for  "  prospecting.7' 

The  first,  from  a  gentleman  in  the  Review  (Gentile  paper) 
office,  contained  this  :  • 

"  Matters  look  squally  here,  you  bet.  The  co-op,  store 
bought  a  thousand  muskets  at  the  Government  sale,  and  they 


340  A 'HUGE  SCARE. 

are  all  in  the  hands  of  the  '  brethren/  They  say  they  ar 
drilling  every  night.  For  three  nights  we  kept  a  lookout 
expecting  the  office  to  be  attacked.  Fifty  or  a  hundred  mei 
marched  up  one  night  and  stood  in  front  of  it,  but  made  n< 
sign.  It  is  known  that  Brigharn  is  indicted,  and  a  few  of  th 
Gentiles  are  nervous.  If  signs  don't  deceive  me,  there  will  b< 
work  for  warriors;  so  come  down  in  time." 

The  other  letter  was  in  a  sort  of  nervous-hystericky,  Italiai 
hand,  the  gist  of  it  running  thus  : 

"  We  are  so  glad  you  are  up  in  Cotton  wood,  where  every 
body's  Gentile.  Mr.  S.  says  they  will  kill  all  the  Gentiles  aw 
Apostates  first  thing.  Do  you  really  think  there  is  much  danger' 
I  know  there  is  some.  Ma  says  she  a'nt  afraid  of  the  Mormons 
but  all  the  miners  will  come  in,  and  they  will  fight  right  in  th( 
streets,  and  rob  everybody.  O,  dear,  I  never  was  out  of  Utal: 
in  my  life,  and  a'nt  it  dreadful  if  we  all  get  killed  right  here ' 
Don't  come  down  a  Sunday  ;  go  to  American  Fork,  or  go  awaj 
down  to  Star  District.  Of  course  they'll  kill  you  first  one." 

Of  course,  I  answered  by  taking  the  earliest  conveyance,  al 
6  next  morning,  for  the  city,  well  knowing,  though  there  mighl 
be  some  excitement,  there  was  no  more  danger  of  a  genera) 
fight  than  there  is  to-day  in  New  York.  The  down-hill  of  six- 
teen miles  to  the  valley,  which  requires  half  a  day  going  up, 
we  made  in  a  little  over  two  hours,  and  thence  traversing  the 
"bench "and  hill  behind  the  penitentiary,  came  in  full  view 
of  the  city,  just  as  the  morning  sun  rose  above  the  Wasatch,  its 
bright  beams  reflecting  beautifully  from  the  freshly-fallen  snow 
on  the  summit.  Below  us  lay  the  city,  calm  and  peaceful  as  on 
a  Puritan  Sabbath.  Rain  had  fallen  since  my  departure ;  the 
dust  was  laid  and  the  air  clear,  cool  and  stimulating.  The 
streams  were  again  running  among  the  checkered  squares,  map- 
ped out  before  us,  and  lacing  all  the  green  plats  with  bright 
and  flowing  borders.  There  were  no  signs  of  war  there.  The 
excitement  was  measurably  over,  but  as  the  nation  had  never 
really  asserted  its  full  authority  in  Utah  before,  we  can  scarcely 
blame  the  Gentiles  for  thinking  such  unwonted  action  must 
produce  war.  The  most  ridiculous  rumors  had  agitated  the  city. 


BRIGHAM    AN    INFIDEL.  341 

The  Mormon  papers  and  speakers  had  exhausted  their  resources 
depicting  what  might  be  the  result  "  if  the  people  should  be  goaded 
beyond  forbearance,"  taking  precious  good  care  all  the  time  not  to 
directly  threaten  resistance;  for  matters  looked  as  if  the  Federal 
authorities  meant  "business."  All  day  Sunday  rumors  thickened. 
Many  ladies  came  and  anxiously  inquired  of  my  hostess  (an  Eng- 
lish woman  who  has  been  here  since  ?49)  "  if  she  really  thought 
there  was  any  danger,"  to  which  she  replied,  with  a  contemptuous 
sniff,  "  No,  no.  I've  been  through  forty  such  excitements  as 
this.  There  won't  be  a  drop  o'  blood  spilt.  Brigham's  got 
too  much  sense."  There  she  touched  the  root  of  the  matter- 
The  whole  position  turned  on  this  question,  Is  Brigham  an  im- 
postor or  a  fanatic?  If  the  former,  he  will  never  raise  his 
finger  for  "this  people  "  to  take  up  arms,  and  they  are  too  well 
under  control  to  fight  before  he  does  raise  it.  An  impostor  is 
governed  by  the  ordinary  rules  which  influence  men  in  war 
and  business,  but  a  fanatic  never  stops  to  count  noses.  He 
dashes  in,  regardless  of  odds,  with  "  God's  on  our  side ;  one 
shall  chase  a  thousand,  and  two  put  ten  thousand  to  flight." 
And  should  this  be  Brigham's  caliber,  he  could  have  had  every 
one  of  us  massacred  in  a  day.  Although  he  and  his  people 
should  suffer  for  it  afterward,  that  would  be  small  comfort  to 
us,  the  decapitated.  But  I  knew  that  Brigham  was  not  a  fanatic, 
and,  consequently,  there  was  no  danger.  Like  all  new  comers, 
I  once  was  disposed  to  credit  Brigham  with  being  honest  in  his 
religion.  But  I  was  long  ago  convinced,  by  most  undoubted 
proofs,  that  he  has  no  faith  in  it  whatever.  He  is  simply  a 
philosophic  infidel,  believing,  as  he  has  substantially  said,  that 
he  had  "  as  good  a  right  as  Christ,  or  Mohammed,  or  any  other 
man,  to  set  up  a  new  religion."  So  none  of  the  old  Gentile 
residents  or  officials  were  a  particle  disturbed. 

But  new  comers  were  nervous.  The  wives  of  Governor 
Woods  and  Frank  Kenyon,  proprietor  of  the  Review,  went  on  a 
long-contemplated  visit  to  California,  and  when  the  report  reached 
me  it  ran  that  "  all  the  Gentile  ladies  in  the  upper  part  of  town 
were  leaving;  that  the  Governor  had  sent  away  his  family,  for 
he  knew  there  would  be  trouble."  A  day  or  two  after,  repeated 


342  I    GO    TO    BINGHAM. 

dispatches  came  back  from  the  East  of  the  bloody  doings  in 
Salt  Lake  and  the  flight  of  the  Gentiles,  all  of  which  read 
amusingly  enough  there  when  the  scare  was  over.  On  Sun- 
day night  two  hundred  soldiers  arrived,  and  a  day  or  two  after 
as  many  more ;  but  the  Mormon  papers  had  passed  from  the 
extreme  of  incendiarism  to  the  extreme  of  deprecating  all  ex- 
citement. They  had  only  hinted  before  what  might  be;  they 
now  took  special  pains  to  declare  in  the  plainest  words  that 
"  there  was  no  excitement  among  the  people ;  there  would  be 
no  resistance  to  law ;  everything  would  go  peaceably  to  a  just 
conclusion.  God  and  the  Supreme  Court  would  reverse  all  this 
action,", etc.  Brigham  was  formally  arrested  on  Tuesday,  and 
Daniel  H.  Wells  on  Wednesday,  and  both  gave  bonds  to  appear 
the  next  week. 

The  comical  feature  of  the  whole  affair  was  the  perfect  celerity 
with  which  all  the  Mormon  leaders  backed  square  down  from 
their  old  positions,  and,  after  all  their  threats,  never  hinted  at 
resistance ;  and,  particularly,  the  ease  with  which  they  were 
able  to  convince  the  fanatical  people  that  it  was  all  for  the  best. 

The  excitement  was  over;  the  Saints  had  concluded  to  trust 
in  "  God  and  the  Supreme  Court/'  and  there  was  no  "  work 
for  warriors "  or  war  correspondents  either.  The  "  nervous- 
hystericky  Italian  hand  "  resumed  its  beautiful  regularity  on 
pink-tinted  "  acceptances,"  and,  after  a  few  days,  I  struck  out 
again  for  the  mountains,  this  time  going  to  Bingham  Canon. 

The  mouth  of  Bingham  is  twenty-four  miles  southwest  of 
Salt  Lake  City,  and  thence  the  caiion  opens  directly  across  the 
Oquirrh,  or  West  Mountains.  The  aboriginal  name  means 
"  Lost  Mountains,"  from  the  fact,  probably,  that  this  range  is 
detached,  terminating  abruptly  on  the  north  at  the  shore  of 
Salt  Lake.  The  characteristic  of  Bingham  is  immense  bodies 
of  low-grade  ore.  The  West  Jordan  Mine,  which  is  accounted 
the  oldest  in  Utah,  is  simply  a  vast  hill  of  "  black  galena"  ore 
— enough  to  employ  a  hundred  men  for  fifty  years,  but  yielding 
only  fifty  dollars  a  ton  in  silver.  It  was  "  located  "  September 
17,  1863,  and  among  the  fifty  names  signed  to  the  By-laws  and 
District  Organization  appear  those  of  General  P.  E.  Connor, 


GENERAL   P.    E.    CONNOR. 


343 


IN  THE  WEST  JORDAN  MINE. 

and  \Yilliam  Hickman,  in  queer  proximity,  considering  their 
present  relative  conditions.  General  Connor  was  then  in  com- 
mand of  this  military  district,  and  with  that  restless  energy 
which  distinguishes  him,  was  exploring  the  whole  country,  with 
Hickman  for  a  guide,  marking  out  military  roads,  establishing 
closer  relations  with  such  Indians  as  were  friendly,  and  fighting 
those  that  were  not.  His  soldiers,  all  from  Nevada  and  Cali- 
fornia, put  in  their  spare  time  prospecting,  and  established 
several  districts  now  famous.  But  Bingham  was  the  only  one 
which  held  out.  No  mines  were  then  found  that  would  pay 
without  railroad  transportation.  The  bullion  turned  out  averaged 
ninety-eight  and  a  half  per  cent,  of  lead  and  one  and  a  half 


344  OPHIR   DISTRICT. 

per  cent,  of  silver  to  the  ton  ;  and  they  had  no  refining  and 
separating  works.  Freight  across  the  Plains  was  twenty-five 
cents  per  pound,  and  lead  in  the  States  was  worth  ten  cents. 
The  result  was — twenty-five  into  ten  "goes  no  times  "  and  fifteen 
cents  over  the  wrong  way.  Now  ten  thousand  miners  are  at 
work  in  Utah,  and  her  developed  mines  are  worth  twenty-five 
million  dollars! 

Verdict:  The  Union  Pacific  fecit. 

On  the  morning  of  October  10th,  as  I  was  starting  up  Mark- 
ham  Gulch,  a  friend  arrived  from  the  city  with  the  news, 
"  They  say  there  is  a  big  fire  in  Chicago."  Next  night  I 
returned  ;  Chicago  was  in  ashes  ;  a  mass  meeting  was  called,  and 
Bingham,  with  a  population  of  eight  hundred,  at  once  raised 
$500  for  the  sufferers.  No  late  event  illustrates  like  that  fire 
how  closely  the  civilized  world  is  being  drawn  together  by  the 
ties  of  commerce  and  religion.  Every  part  of  the  great  body 
feels  a  local  to  be  a  general  ill,  and  hastens  to  alleviate.  Let  us 
cease  to  look  backward  for  the  better  day.  It  is  before  us. 
This  day  has  more  of  light  and  humanity  than  any  that  have 
gone  before,  and  steel  and  steam  are  the  true  motors  for  the 
"  golden  age." 

West  of  the  Oquirrh  lies  Rush  Valley  ;  at  its  northeast  corner 
is  Stockton  Mining  District ;  at  the  southeast  East  Caiion  breaks 
abruptly  into  the  mountains,  bordered  by  two  districts ;  while 
west  of  it  are  Columbia  and  Cedar  Mountain  Districts.  I  went 
over  to  East  Canon,  and,  with  headquarters  at  Ophir  City, 
put  in  two  weeks  diligently  studying  the  formation.  I  had 
taken  the  contract  of  writing  an  u  exhaustive  report"  on  the 
mines  of  Utah  for  the  Review — Gentile  Journal  of  Salt  Lake 
City — and  at  the  end  of  a  month  could  talk  learnedly  of  "shafts, 
tunnels,  drifting,  sinking,  going  down  on  the  lode,  chlorides, 
bromides,  galena  and  bed-rock,  footwalls  and  hanging  walls." 
Then  I  read  reports  of  mining  experts,  and  became  confused.  I 
traveled  another  month,  took  accounts  of  the  miners  and  studied 
the  rocks;  and  at  the  end  of  that  time  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  one  man  knows  about  as  much  what  is  in  the  ground,  out 
of  sight,  as  another.  I  may  have  been  wrong  in  this  conclusion. 
If  so,  I  am  willing  to  be  forgiven. 


TEETER  S    MINE. 


345 


But  I  was  as  wild  as  anybody  by  this  time,  and  determined 
to  invest  a  little.  One  N.  C.  Teeter  had  developed  a  "  location" 
he  called  the  "  Ida  Elmore,"  till  he  reached  pay-rock,  and  con- 
cluded it  was  worth  a  quarter  of  a  million  dollars.  As  we  sat 
in  his  cabin  on  Mineral  Hill  of  evenings,  he  deeply  lamented 
his  inability  to  go  East  and  sell  it;  and  "supposed  he  should 
have  to  take  $50,000  for  it,  as  he  could  not  sell  for  more  than 
one-fifth  of  its  value  in  Utah."  Meanwhile  he  would  prospect 
"  for  any  man  who  would  pay  for  grub,  powder,  fuse,  sharpen- 
ing tools  and  assays,  sharing  even  in  all  that  was  struck."  On 
such  an  arrange- 
ment we  agreed, 
taking  in  Mr. 
Edward  Nason 
as  equal  partner. 
I  advanced  $200 
on  written  con- 
tract, and  went 
on  with  my  tra- 
vels ;  and  we  soon 
had  three  "loca- 
tions recorded" 
which  promised 
well.  I  went  to 
other  d  istricts, 
and  the  next  I 
heard  of  Teeter 
he  was  in  Penn- 
sylvania—  "gone 
home  to  get  mar- 
ried ;  would  re- 
turn early  in  the  spring."  He  had  sold  all  his  claims  in  East 
Gallon,  the  magnificent  "  Ida  El  more"  included,  for  $300,  and 
with  his  dividend  of  my  money  thought  this  the  best  chance  to 
get  home.  Six  months  after  I  heard  from  him :  "  He  had  not 
intended  to  defraud  me — had  expected  to  come  back — had  been 
sick — was  working  on  a  bridge  at  two  dollars  a  day — and 


ON   LION   HILL— OPHIR   DISTRICT. 


346  WHERE   MY    POSSESSIONS   LIE. 

expected  thereby  to  raise  money  enough  to  marry  on."     To 
such  a  plight  came  the  owner  of  "  a  $250,000  mine." 

Nason  stuck  to  the  claims  honestly;  did  work  enough  to  hold 
them,  under  the  District  laws,  and  I  am  still  the  happy  owner 
of  an  "  undivided,  one-third  interest"  in  three  claims  of  eight 
hundred  feet  each  on  Mineral  Hill ;  and  an  errant  prospector 
whom  I  met  last  November,  tells  me  that  a  weatherbeaten  stake 
in  an  abandoned  neighborhood,  above  a  hole  in  the  ground,  still 
bears  this : 

NOTICE. 

"  November  20th,  1871. 

"  We,  the  undersigned,  claim  eight  hundred  (800)  feet  on  this  ledge,  lode  or 
vein,  of  mineral-bearing  rock — counting  each  way  from  this  notice — with  all  its 
dips,  spurs  and  angles.  Work  done  according  to  the  By-Laws  of  Ophir  District. 
The  same  known  and  recorded  as  the  Ad  Valorem  Lode. 

"  J.  H.  BEADLE,  200  feet. 

"  E.  G.  NASON,  200  feet, 

"  N.  C.  TEETER,  200  feet. 

"  DISCOVERY,  200  feet." 

I  have  not  heard  a  word  from  "  my  mines "  or  "  resident 
partner"  for  six  months,  and  my  conclusion  therefore  is,  "No 
dividends  declared." 

Mining  districts  abound  with  "  bilks,"  and  the  experienced 
tell  me  I  got  off  cheap.  I  have  known  miners  to  pick  up  a 
piece  of  rich  ore  from  an  old  mine,  hammer  it  into  a  crevice  in 
the  side  of  a  shaft,  and  when  a  visitor  came  pick  it  out  as  a 
"specimen"  of  the  new  mine.  "Salting  a  claim"  after  the  old 
mode  is  too  well  known,  and  a  score  of  new  dodges  are  invented. 
"Top-rock"  is  generally  what  the  visitor  sees  most  of,  and  he 
is  told,  "  Of  course  it  gets  richer  as  you  go  down."  This  may 
or  may  not  be  the  case.  In  some  ores  disintegration  by  ele- 
mental action  takes  away  all  but  the  "  pay-rock,"  and  that  on 
the  surface  is  the  only  part  that  is  rich.  But  the  mines  of  Utah 
are  too  great  for  their  development  to  be  retarded  by  such  tricks. 
The  growth  of  this  interest  has  been  steady,  healthful  and  rapid; 
and  with  improved  transportation  and  machinery,  a  hundred 
mines  now  unworked  will  prove  remunerative. 

My  attempt  as  mining  reporter  was  scarcely  a  success,  praise 


I   CEASE    MINING. 


34' 


and   blame  provoking  equal  censure,  and  I  retired  with   the 
annexed  "valedictory"  in  the  columns  of  the  Review: 

"  This  is  my  last  on  Utah  mines.  The  business  has  proved 
to  me  a  rather  thankless  and  unprofitable  one.  Without  much 
knowledge  of  the  subject,  I  started  out  to  gather  information  as 
far  as  possible  from  disinterested  sources.  I  could  not  praise 
all  mines;  I  could  not  praise  some  without  an  implied  com- 
parison with  others;  the  neglect  to  praise  was  a  slight,  the 
comparison  was  considered  odious.  Being  human,  I  have  una- 
voidably made  some  mistakes.  Every  line  I  have  written  has 
subjected  me  to  harsh  censure ;  every  statement  has  gained  me 
an  enemy ;  every  paragraph  has  lost  me  a  friend.  My  stock  on 
hand  is  not  large  enough  to  stand  so  ruinous  a  drain.  For  the 
mines  I  praised,  I  am  accused  of  having  received  pay.  Had  I 
received  it,  I  might  stand  the  swearing.  To  get  the  curses  and 
miss  the  cash  is  a  ruinous  business.  That  there  are  many  good 
mines  I  know ;  but  the  time  has  not  come  to  do  them,  or  the 
others,  justice.  Until  it  does  come,  excuse  me. 

BEADLE." 


VERTICAL   SECTION   OF  A    QTJAKTZ   MINE. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

A    CHANGE   OF   BASE. 

A  hard  winter — The  last  rain — Eastward — A  merry  party — The  great  Blockade 
— On  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  Railroad — Southwestern  Missouri — Among  the 
Cherokees— Spring  roads— Up  into  Kansas— Meet  C.  G.  DuBruler,  Esq.,  and 
return — Down  to  Muscogee. 

[INTER  "pinched  in"  on  mining  operations  in  Utah, 
and  I  seized  the  occasion  to  visit  the  East.  Coming 
down  from  the  mountains  to  Salt  Lake  City,  I  found 
that  heavy  snows  had  fallen  over  eight  hundred  miles 
of  the  Union  Pacific;  there  had  been  two  days7  delay 
of  the  trains,  and  five  hundred  people  were  in  the  city  waiting 
to  start.  There  was  a  vast  amount  of  discussion,  and  no  little 
grumbling  at  such  a  delay.  But  a  few,  who  claimed  extra 
knowledge  of  the  climate,  thus  oracularly  pronounced  :  "If  the 
winter  proves  unusually  severe,  the  road  may  be  blocked  a  week 
at  a  time,"  which  provoked  a  chorus  of  dissent  from  expectant 
passengers.  Little  they  knew  what  a  "  hard  winter"  meant. 

The  travelers  held  frequent  conferences,  and  the  general  con- 
clusion was,  "  We  will  wait  till  one  or  two  trains  have  run 
through  on  time,  then  take  the  next.  With  these  women  and 
children  we  don't  want  to  stop  an  hour  on  the  road."  But 
eight  single  gentlemen,  myself  included,  determined  to  take  the 
first  train  and  risk  it.  We  waited  through  the  day  at  Ogden, 
leaving  that  place  at  night  instead  of  morning,  and  ran  through 
to  Omaha  without  losing  an  hour.  Being  out  of  the  regular 
time  we  were  delayed  there  half  a  day,  then  made  time  to  New 
York — losing  twenty-four  hours  on  the  entire  trip.  We  left 
Salt  Lake  on  Saturday  morning,  and  sat  down  to  an  eight 
o'clock  breakfast  at  the  Astor  House  the  next  Friday  morning. 
348 


JOLLITY    £Y    RAIL.  349 

It  was  the  jolliest  trip  of  the  age.  Eight  gentlemen  in  one 
Pullman  Palace  Car  from  "  Zion"  to  Gotham  :  Messrs.  Ship- 
man  and  Sherman,  merchants  of  New  York  city ;  Mr.  Fisher, 
an  elderly  retired  merchant  of  Philadelphia ;  Hon.  Audley 
Coote,  an  English  gentleman  returning  from  Australia;  Mr. 
Rice,  a  middle-aged  Bostonian,  coming  home  from  a  ten  years' 
residence  in  the  ports  of  China ;  the  writer,  and  a  foreigner  with 
unpronounceable  name,  who  joked  in  four  languages  and  swore 
in  a  dozen  more  with  graceful  fluency.  Anticipating  a  blockade, 
we  had  laid  in  "supplies/'  Rolling  along,  twenty-five  miles 
per  hour,  through  the  rugged  gorges  of  the  Wasatch,  over  the 
barren  plains  of  Wyoming,  between  the  lofty  snow-banks  of  the 
Black  Hills,  out  upon  the  high  plains  and  down  the  long  five 
hundred  mile  incline  to  the  Missouri,  then  through  fertile  Iowa 
and  the  Northern  States,  by  night  and  by  day  we  made  the  car 
a  rolling  palace  of  gayety :  without  were  storm  and  darkness, 
sleet  and  snow  rattling  against  the  windows;  within  song  and 
laughter,  cigars,  "spirituals"  and  genial  society.  We  repre- 
sented all  parts  of  the  world,  and  each  knew  just  what  the  others 
wanted  to  hear.  It  was  indeed  a  trip  long  to  be  remembered 
by  all  the  parties,  and  as  the  genial  Englishman  and  I  took  our 
farewell  "smile,"  just  before  he  went  on  the  steamer,  I  thought 
after  all  there  was  something  in  the  High  Joint  Commission, 
and  all  this  talk  about  "our  common  language"  and  "common 
Shakspeare,  Milton,"  and  all  that. 

One  more  train  ran  through  on  time,  then  another  \veek's 
blockade  took  place  ;  and  most  of  the  five  hundred  we  left  win- 
tered with  the  Mormons.  A  few  trains  got  through  from  one 
to  eight  days  behind  time,  and  then  the  "  great  blockade  of 
1872"  began.  Of  its  horrors  I  know  only  by  report.  I  had 
reached  the  eastern  side  of  the  mountains,  and  when  the  time 
came  to  return  there  was  no  use  making  the  attempt.  But 
when  I  passed  over  the  road  eight  months  after,  the  effects  were 
still  to  be  seen  in  the  debris  of  wrecked  cars  at  various  points. 
The  moral  to  be  drawn  from  it  was,  that  Rocky  Mountain 
winters  are  very  variable  and  uncertain. 

"  Late  falls  and  late  springs  "  is  the  formula  of  old  residents 


350 


SNOW    BLOCK AT>J58. 


in  the  mountains;  and  it  is  popularly  added,  that  every  third 
winter  is  very  hard,  every  seventh  winter  terribly  and  excep- 
tionally hard,  while  every  seventeenth  winter  kills  everything 
that  is  caught  out,  man  or  beast.  Deducting  the  exaggeration 
of  exactness  due  to  the  popular  and  world-wide  notions  about 
the  odd  and  mystic  numbers,  three,  seven  and  seventeen,  it  is 
still  a  fact  that  at  certain  intervals,  occurring  with  an  approach 
to  regularity,  there  are  long  periods  of  cold  or  unusual  falls  of 
rain  through  the  Rocky  Mountains.  My  first  winter  in  Utah 

was  so  mild  that  work 
on  the  Union  and  Cen- 
tral Pacifies  was  not 
suspended  a  day.  The 
next  two  winters  were 
only  a  little  more  severe ; 
then  came  the  terribly 
hard  season  of  1871- 
'72.  We  may  look  for 
long  and  deep  snows 
as  often  as  every  third 
winter;  and  many  of 
them  as  bad  as  that 
which  caused  the  great 
blockade ;  but  with  the 
snow  sheds  since  con- 
structed, and  other  pre- 
cautions, we  may  reas- 
onably expect  no  more 
blockades. 

When    I    had    been 
three    months    in    the 

East  the  blockade  was  but  partly  raised,  business  did  not  prom- 
ise well  in  Utah,  and  there  was  great  interest  in  the  proposed 
Thirty-fifth  Parallel  Railroad.  San  Francisco  and  St  Louis 
had  shaken  hands  over  it,  and  guaranteed  thirty  million  dollars, 
and  sanguine  Cincinnatians  believed  the  road  was  to  be  built 
right  away.  Under  these  circumstances  I  accepted  a  new 


ONE  LANGUAGE— TWO    "SMILES. 


WESTERN  RATES  OF  FARE.  351 

mission :  to  inspect  that  line,  or  as  much  of  it  as  possible,  from 
St.  Louis  to  San  Diego. 

On  the  morning  of  March  21st — a  bitter  cold  day — I  left  St. 
Louis  by  way  of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  Railroad,  and  ran  all 
day  through  the  poorest  country  I  ever  saw  east  of  the  Ameri- 
can Desert.  The  general  direction  of  the  road  is  west-southwest; 
on  the  one  side  the  streams  flow  eastward  into  the  Mississippi, 
and  on  the  other  northward  into  the  Missouri ;  and  for  the  entire 
distance  this  road  seems  to  wind  about  so  as  to  keep  exactly  on 
the  "divide"  between  these  headwaters,  on  hard,  barren  ridges. 
Its  present  terminus  is  at  Vinita,  some  forty  miles  into  the 
Indian  Territory,  and  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  from  St. 
Louis,  for  which  distance  each  passenger  pays  the  moderate 
price  (for  the  West)  of  eighteen  dollars  and  fifty  cents. 

Nothing  surprises  Eastern  pilgrims  so  much,  and  I  may  add 
so  painfully,  as  the  steady  increase  of  prices  as  they  go  west- 
ward. The  traveler  from  New  York  to  San  Francisco  finds  a 
regularly  increasing  tariff,  at  the  rate  of  one  or  two  cents  per 
mile,  at  each  change  of  cars.  On  the  New  York'  Central  he 
pays  two  cents  per  mile;  on  the  Michigan  Central  three  cents; 
from  Chicago  westward  four  cents,  with  liberal  discount  for 
through  tickets,  and  through  Iowa  five  cents.  On  crossing  the 
Missouri  River  he  takes  a  big  jump  and  pays  seven  cents  per 
mile  on  the  Union  Pacific,  and  at  Ogden  changes  to  the  Central 
Pacific  at  ten  cents  per  mile  (currency)  thence  to  San  Francisco. 
If  he  grumbles  he  is  told  :  "  It's  the  custom  of  the  country ; 
everything  is  high  out  here,"  etc. ;  at  least  that's  all  the  satis- 
faction I  ever  got.  Stage  fare  increases  at  even  a  greater  ratio  : 
five  cents  in  the  East,  ten  in  Iowa  and  Nebraska,  and  twenty 
in  the  Territories.  Provisions  also  increase  in  price,  but  in 
much  smaller  ratio.  To  travel  long  out  West  a  man  must  be, 
in  the  local  phrase,  "  well  heeled."  This  road,  if  I  may  judge 
from  the  country,  ought  to  charge  fifty  cents  per  mile,  for  surely 
there  can  be  no  way  trade  worth  naming. 

We  had  a  bright  enough  day  for  the  trip,  but  saw  every- 
where evidences  of  an  unusually  hard  winter  and  late  spring. 
No  swelling  buds,  no  birds,  no  shade  of  green ;  but  heavy 


352  SOUTHWESTERN    MISSOURI. 

smoke  from  the  few  dwellings,  and  along  the  streams  ice  in 
plenty.  The  country  seemed  to  get  poorer  every  mile.  The 
soil  was  white  or  yellow,  the  timber  scrubby,  and  the  few 
houses  of  most  ancient  "  double-log "  pattern  ;  in  the  sheds 
between  the  rooms,  or  under  the  projecting  roofs,  were  the  old 
style  wooden  pins,  hung  full  of  gears  and  "varmint"  skins, 
among  which  played  or  reposed  lank  dogs  and  dirty,  towheaded 
children.  Occasionally  a  switch-tail  sorrel  horse,  about  half 
size,  and  better  framed  than  filled  in,  languidly  moved  out  of 
the  way  of  the  train :  or  the  hazel  brush  opened  to  view  a 
black  and  sandy  spotted  hog,  about  four  feet  long  and  four 
inches  thick,  with  legs  like  an  elk,  and  nose  like  a  bowsprit. 
•  I  did  not  see  a  single  fat  specimen,  brute  or  human.  The  few 
towns  were  indescribable — no  streets,  no  regularity,  no  paint, 
no  style — and  at  each  stop  the  train  was  surrounded  by  shiftless 
crowds  of  gaunt,  long-haired  men,  yellow,  short-haired  women, 
and  no-colored  children — the  old  folks  often  with  cob  pipes, 
the  men  with  grizzled  beards,  streaked  with  tobacco  juice,  and 
the  women  with  high-backed  combs  which  looked  like  sections 
of  a  flax  scutchell.  Toward  Rolla  the  country  grew  a  little 
better,  and  a  few  of  the  local  aristocracy  came  aboard.  Their 
hair  was  cut  short  and  covered  with  close,  slick  caps,  stuck  on 
one  side  of  the  head.  They  were  clad  in  stout  riding  suits, 
with  heavy  jangling  spurs,  and  carried  heavy  riding  whips. 
Their  clothes  were  "trimmed  with  ruchings"  of  horsehairs; 
their  boots  smelt  of  horse,  they  looked  all  horse,  and  their  talk 
was  of  the  horse,  horsey. 

At  Rolla  we  found  a  good  eating-house  and  a  pretty  fair 
town,  but  soon  after  entered  a  worse  country  than  ever,  too  poor 
even  to  produce  timber,  and  this  continued  to  near  Springfield, 
which  we  reached  soon  after  dark.  There  we  stopped  for  the 
night,  "  to  catch  the  express  train  in  the  morning"  the  conduc- 
tor said,  though  that  struck  me  as  a  rather  queer  way  to  catch 
anything.  That  seems  to  be  the  Southern  Missouri  style,  how- 
ever. Old  Springfield  is  two  miles  or  more  from  the  railroad, 
but  at  the  depot  has  sprung  up  a  new,  modern,  and  decidedly 
tasty  town,  with  a  first-class  hotel  of  the  new  Southern  style. 


LIFE   AND   TASTE.  353 

In  the  morning  we  were  astonished  to  find  the  ground  covered 
with  three  inches  of  snow,  and  more  coining,  "  the  Ekynoxual 
stawm,"  the  landlord  said,  and  for  aught  I  know,  he  may  be 
correct. 

"  What  are  the  productions  of  this  region  ?  "  I  asked  a  citi- 
zen at  breakfast. 

"  Oh,  cawn,  minis,  sweet  taters,  and  stock.  Not  as  much 
cawn  as  afo'  the  wah,  but  mo'  stock.  Things  changed  'round 
so  since  the  wah.  Been  better  for  some  places,  wuss  fo'  others. 
Lots  o'  our  people  kep  a  fussin  after  they  come  hoam.  Then 
about  three  yeahs  ago  the  wusst  ones  went  off  to  Arkansaw  and 
the  Injun  Nation,  and  new  eemigrants  tuck  their  place.  ,But 
these  new  fellows  settled  all  in  spots,  and  the  places  wher'  they 
settled  has  gone  ahead,  ye  see,  and  the  rest  of  the  country's 
gone  back." 

Springfield  and  Holla  are  the  only  places  where  I  have  observed 
any  signs  of  "  new  eemigrants."  The  train  started  at  7.30  and 
soon  took  us  out  of  the  Springfield  oasis  into  a  worse  country, 
if  possible,  than  we  had  yet  traversed.  Wearied  of  the  sight, 
I  concluded  to  read,  and  the  train  boy  brought  his  stock  of 
books,  which  struck  me  as  so  good  an  index  of  the  taste  of 
most  of  his  customers  on  this  road  that  I  made  out  a  list : 
"  Confession  of  Hildebrand,  the  Outlaw,  Murderer  and  Guer- 
rilla ; "  "  Confession  and  Trial  of  RulofF,  the  Learned  Mur- 
derer ; "  "  Life  and  Death  of  James  Fisk ; "  "  The  Coral  Lady ; " 
"  Mysteries  of  New  York ; "  "  Confession  of  Horn,  a  Wife 
Murderer;"  "Ginger  Snaps;"  "Habits  of  Good  Society;" 
"  Jolly  Joker,"  and  two  of  Charles  Reade's  works.  Such  is  the 
mental  aliment  of  the  average  traveling  public  here.  The 
country  continued  barren  till  we  neared  the  edge  of  the  Indian 
Territory.  Then  we  got  upon  a  down  grade  in  a  narrow  but 
pretty  valley,  which  widened  rapidly  towards  Grand  River. 
We  crossed  a  narrow  strip  of  woodland  belonging  to  the 
Seneca  Indians,  then  came  out  upon  a  rich  prairie  clothed  with 
beautiful  groves  and  bordered  with  fine  timber,  in  the  country 
of  the  Cherokees. 

An  hour's  run  through  the  "  Nation  "  brought  us  to  Vinita. 
23 


354  RAILROAD    LINES. 

The  terminus  of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  is  only  a  mile  beyond, 
and  here  it  is  crossed  by  the  Missouri,  Kansas  and  Texas  Rail- 
road, running  due  south.  By  the  treaty  of  1866,  two  railroads 
were  to  be  allowed  to  run  through  the  Indian  Territory,  and  by 
Government  charter  this  priviledge  was  granted  to  the  two 
roads  which  reached  the  border  first.  The  Leavenworth,  Law- 
rence and  Galveston  road  and  the  Kansas  and  Fort  Scott  road 
both  started  for  it,  but  were  distanced  by  the  Missouri,  Kansas 
and  Texas ;  hence  both  of  them  terminate  at  the  border.  The 
Atlantic  and  Pacific  reached  it  first  from  the  East,  early  in  1871, 
was  soon  after  completed  to  Yinita  and  stopped,  "  waiting  the 
action  of  Congress/'  the  people  say.  The  Missouri,  Kansas 
and  Texas  was  running  to  Canadian  River,  seventy  miles  south 
of  Vinita,  whence  stages  ran  through  Texas  to  El  Paso,  in 
Mexico,  and  to  Fort  Sill,  in  the  western  part  of  the  Territory. 
The  railroad  is  to  continue  on  to  the  gulf,  or  tap  the  Texas 
Central. 

At  Vinita  is  the  junction  of  two  long  lines  in  a  new  country, 
with  good  soil,  climate  and  timber,  and  we  should  naturally 
expect  to  see  a  place.  In  Kansas  or  Nebraska  we  should  see  a 
city  of  life  and  activity,  lots  selling  at  from  one  hundred  to  two 
thousand  dollars,  dwellings  and  stores  going  up  on  every  hand, 
one  or  two  live  journals  blowing  the  place  as  the  "future  metro- 
polis of  the  boundless  West,  the  last  great  chance  for  profitable 
investment,"  etc.,  and  a  dozen  streets  lively  with  the  rattle  of 
active  commerce.  Here,  we  do  see  nothing.  We  feel  the  dead  calm 
of  stagnation ;  we  breathe  the  atmosphere  of  laziness.  There 
is  one  tolerable  hotel,  one  stone  store,  and  two  frame  ones,  kept 
respectively  by  a  Cherokee  and  a  Delaware ;  and,  besides  the 
railroad  employes,  there  is  a  population  of  perhaps  a  hundred 
— a  few  good  men,  more  shiftless  whites,  average  Indians  and 
suspicious-looking  half-breeds. 

New  comers  soon  get  disgusted  and  leave.  The  railroads 
own  the  adjacent  land,  and  in  September,  1871,  laid  off  a  town, 
and  had  a  sale  of  lots.  They  ranged  from  $80  to  $200. 
Februry  '72  the  same  lots  sold  at  from  $15  to  $60. 

The  trade  of  the  country  was  next  to  nothing.     Cattle  were 


"  MIXED."  355 

the  only  export,  and  the  money  received  for  them  was  all  that 
came  into  the  country.  Nowhere  is  there  a  surplus  of  grain 
raised,  and  along  the  border  there  is  considerable  import  of 
staples  from  Missouri  and  Arkansas.  This  portion  of  the 
Cherokee  country  is  but  little  settled.  Most  of  that  tribe  live 
on  Grand  River,  extending  a  continuous  line  of  settlements 
down  to  Tahlequah,  their  capital,  seventy  miles  from  Yinita. 

My  first  Sabbath  in  the  "  Nation "  was  bright  and  clear, 
with  a  shade  of  green  upon  the  prairies,  and  all  the  indications 
of  advancing  spring;  and  being  informed  that  there  was  uan 
Injin  school-house  with  preaching  som  7ers  three  miles  down 
on  Cabin  Creek,"  I  started  to  hunt  it.  Before  I  was  a  mile  on 
my  way,  the  wind  rose  with  surprising  suddenness  and  blew 
almost  a  hurricane  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  This  is  the  most 
windy  part  of  the  West  I  have  yet  visited,  and  I  suppose  it  is 
for  that  reason  I  always  find  the  Indians  living  in  the  timber 
along  the  creeks. 

Nobody  could  tell  me  what  route  to  take,  so  I  called  at  the 
first  house,  where  I  was  directed  to  the  next  by  the  occupant, 
who  announced  himself  as  a  "White  Cherokee." 

"  Is  your  neighbor  an  Indian  ?  "  I  asked. 

"Well,  he  has  an  Injin  family." 

"  And  the  next  man  ?  " 

"Well,  he's  sorter  white,  but  he's  married  to  a  Shawnee 
girl.  Next  house  thar  lives  a  White  Cherokee,  but  that  man 
over  thar  knows  most  about  the  country.  Better  ask  him." 

I  went  as  directed  to  a  pretentious  frame  house,  the  nicest  I 
had  yet  seen  in  the  "  Nation,"  where  I  found  a  family  of  nine 
children  and  young  people,  of  just  nine  different  shades  of 
color,  from  pure  white,  with  blue  eyes  and  red  hair,  to  almost 
pure  Indian. 

I  found  the  owner  very  communicative  and  rather  intelli- 
gent. His  first  wife,  he  informed  me,  was  half  Shawnee,  from 
Canada,  and  her  first  husband  was  a  full-blood  Cherokee. 
Hence  the  three  children  of  that  union  were  nearly  full-blood. 
By  this  woman  he  had  four  children,  only  quarter-blood,  but 
differing  very  much  in  shade.  He  then  married  an  Irish 


356 


"REVERSION"  AND  "SURVIVAL." 


MY  CHEROKEE  FRIENDS. 

(blonde)  woman ;  they  had  two  children,  one  a  clear-skinned, 
freckled,  blue-eyed  Celt,  the  other  dark  enough  to  pass  for  a 
"  White  Cherokee." 

"  It's  singular  how  it  will  come  back  in  this  country,"  he 
explained.  "I've  known  'em  to  have  regular  Injun  children 
after  two  generations  of  nearly  white,  and  children  of  pure 
white  people  born  here  are  often  very  dark.  I  know  two 
White  Cherokees,  married,  that  you  couldn't  tell  either  of  'em 
from  a  regular  white  person,  and  they've  a  whole  family  of 
nearly  full-bloods.  Old  Injuns  say  it  comes  back  on  'era 
sometimes  after  people  have  done  forgot  they  had  any  Injun 
blood  in  'em."  This  statement  is  confirmed  by  all  the  "  White 
Cherokees"  I  have  talked  with  on  the  subject 


THE  CONGKEGATION.  357 

A  mile  farther  on  I  was  overtaken  by  g  Mr.  Parks  and 
family,  and  accepted  a  ride  with  them  to  the  church.  Like 
the  more  intelligent  citizens  of  the  "  Nation,"  he  was  quite 
communicative,  and,  learning  my  business,  insisted  on  my 
spending  the  day,  after  church,  at  his  house.  He  was  a  native 
of  East  Tennessee,  his  father  a  white  man,  and  his  mother  a 
half  Cherokee,  who  refused  to  come  with  the  main  body  of  the 
tribe  in  the  spring  of  1839.  He  fought  through  the  war  on 
the  Southern  side,  then  came  out  and  claimed  his  citizenship  in 
the  "Nation/7  to  which  he  was  admitted  by  the  Supreme 
Court  (or  Principal  Chiefs),  after  proving  his  ancestry.  He 
showed  not  the  slightest  trace  of  Indian  blood,  but  his  little 
boy  looked  like  a  half-breed.  His  youngest  daughter  had  the 
rolling  black  eye  and  sad  expression  of  the  Cherokee,  with  a 
fair  skin ;  while  the  older  ones,  misses  of  eighteen  or  twenty, 
were  both  fair  and  beautiful.  Both  were  dressed  very  richly, 
with  black  silk  dresses  and  mantillas.  Rich  dresses  were 
numerous  at  church,  particularly  of  corn-color  silk,  this  and 
black  and  red  being  the  prevailing  colors.  Many  of  these 
people  were  quite  wealthy  before  the  war,  and  remnants  of 
their  wealth  remain  in  costly  shawls  and  jewelry,  which  seem 
oddly  out  of  place  amid  the  general  poverty. 

The  place  of  worship  was  a  rude  log  school-house,  perhaps 
twenty-five  feet  square,  the  cracks  covered  with  clapboards,  and 
the  congregation  consisted  of  fifty-two  persons — not  a  full- 
blooded  Indian  among  them. 

Most  of  that  color  live  east  of  Grand  River,  and  Cabin 
Creek  is  considered  rather  a  community  of  half-bloods.  The 
school  teacher,  with  whom  I  conversed  after  service,  was  as 
white  a  woman  as  I  ever  saw,  with  blue  eyes  and  light  brown 
hair ;  yet  she  is  considered  a  Cherokee,  and  traces  her  ancestry 
from  pure  bloods.  Rev.  Mr.  Valentine,  who  preached  to  us,  is 
also  considered  "  a  citizen  of  the  Nation,"  and,  though  of  pure 
white  blood,  was  born  and  reared  among  the  Cherokees.  Just 
as,  before  the  war,  we  called  every  man  a  "  nigger "  who  had 
the  faintest  trace  of  negro  blood,  though  it  were  but  a  sixteenth, 
so  here  all  are  called  Cherokees  who  have  a  drop  of  Cherokee 


358  "WHITE  CHEROKEES." 

blood.  The  phrase  "  White  Cherokee"  is  generally  applied  to 
those  of  less  than  half  Indian  blood. 

One  may  travel  for  days  in  the  Territory,  and  never  see  a 
full-blood.  Nevertheless  they  are  still  in  the  majority,  as 
shown  by  the  census.  But  they  live  away  from  the  main  lines 
of  travel,  and  generally  in  the  timber  along  the  streams.  I 
heard  much  of  the  jealousy  between  the  pure  and  the  mixed 
bloods,  but  saw  no  evidences  of  it.  The  popular  idea  is  that 
the  Indian  is  being  rapidly  exterminated,  which  is  incorrect  as 
regards  the  civilized  tribes.  Absorbed  would  be  a  better  word. 
It  is  true,  that  the  pure  bloods  are  certainly  not  increasing, 
perhaps  slightly  decreasing;  but  the  amount  of  Indian  blood 
remains,  if  it  does  not  increase.  It  is  by  constant  intermarriage 
with  whites,  that  the  pure  stock  lessens  in  number. 

Among  the  "White  Cherokees"  are  some  very  curious 
people:  pure  white  to  all  appearance,  but  still  called  Chero- 
kees, and  with  no  recollection  of  any  ancestry  outside  of  the 
tribe.  Some  of  them  are  supposed  to  be  descendants  of  mis- 
sionaries, who  settled  in  the  tribe  five  or  six  generations  ago; 
and  some  of  white  captives  taken  in  their  first  wars  with  our 
race,  or  of  children  stolen  in  North  Carolina  early  in  the 
eighteenth  century. 

The  services  were  conducted  in  the  order  of  the  Baptist 
Church,  to  which  sect  the  minister  belongs,  as  do  a  majority 
of  the  Cherokee  Christians.  The  Moravians,  Methodists,  and 
Episcopalians  number  many  converts  among  the  other 
Nations,  and  some  among  the  Cherokees,  while  the  Presby- 
terians are  quite  numerous  among  the  Delawares  and  Shaw- 
nees,  and  farther  west. 

The  Indians  seem  to  be  naturally  prone  to  fatalism,  and  their 
theology,  even  when  Christian,  is  of  a  singularly  cold  and  melan- 
choly character;  not  so  bad,  however,  as  that  of  the  California 
Chinese,  which  is  the  most  gloomy,  chilling,  and  repellant  of  all 
ethnic  religions,  but  enough  like  it  to  point  to  a  kinship  of  race. 
The  Senecas  alone  of  all  the  tribes  in  this  vicinity,  (they  live  just 
east  of  Grand  River,)  retain  their  aboriginal  heathenism.  Sacri- 
fices, incantations,  and  a  separate  priesthood  are  still  maintained, 


OK-LA-HO-MA.  359 

and  once  a  year  they  burn  a  certain  number  of  dogs  to  propitiate  the 
spirit  of  evil.  That  entire  tribe  numbers  but  ninety  persons,  and 
my  host  informed  me  that  when  last  he  visited  them,  they  had 
only  one  child  in  the  tribe.  Their  decay  has  been  rapid.  All 
the  more  intelligent  admit  the  steady  decay  of  the  pure  bloods, 
and,  though  there  is  a  slight  increase  at  present  in  the  Cherokee 
Nation  at  large,  yet  in  the  pure  bloods  there  is  a  decrease.  I 
have  only  given,  thus  far,  a  few  points  gleaned  from  my  con- 
versation with  the  "  White  Cherokees,"  but  our  talk  at  dinner 
assumed  a  more  personal  and  political  turn.  Mr.  Parks  had 
invited  some  of  the  older  citizens  to  dine  with  us,  and,  as  at  a 
Sunday  dinner  in  the  country  districts  of  Ohio,  politics  came  up 
for  discussion. 

"  What  will  you  do  with  us?"  was  the  gist  of  the  first  ques- 
tion. "  Will  the  Government  give  half  our  lands  to  railroads, 
and  let  the  whites  come  in  on  us  to  try  for  the  other  half?" 

"  The  Government  will  not  establish  a  Territory  here  and 
throw  it  open  to  white  settlers,  unless  the  Indians  are  willing ; 
but  why  are  you  not  willing,  if  you  can  have  a  farm  secured 
first  to  each  citizen  of  the  Nation  ?  " 

"Because  our  more  ignorant  people  and  full-bloods  can't  live 
with  the  Yankees  settled  all  among  them.  Some  tell  us  we 
can't  hold  our  land  in  common  the  way  we  do.  Why  can't  we? 
If  we  can't,  then  let  it  be  allotted,  so  much  to  each  family,  and 
the  rest  common  pasturage.  These  full-blooded  Cherokees  are 
the  most  simple  minded,  honest  people  in  the  world.  They 
don't  know  anything  about  trading  or  scheming  with  white 
folks.  But  you  know  it  is  the  nature  of  white  people  to  be 
grasping.  Let  them  settle  here  and  they  would  take  all  advan- 
tage in  trades,  and  the  Indians  could  not  live  here." 

The  principal  talker,  an  aged  "  White  Cherokee,"  continued 
at  some  length  and  in  good  language  to  argue  against  the  "Bill 
to  establish  the  Terrritory  of  Oklahoma,"  of  which  he  produced 
a  copy  and  read  extracts.  He  related  with  increasing  pathos, 
the  principal  facts  in  the  history  of  the  Cherokees:  their  first 
general  war  with  the  whites,  many  years  before  the  Revolution  ; 
their  removal  to  the  hill  country  of  Georgia,  Carolina  and  Ala- 


360  INDIAN   POLITICS. 

bama ;  their  second  move  to  Arkansas  and  a  band  to  Texas ; 
their  expulsion  from  all  other  places  and  settlement  here.  As 
he  progressed  a  growing  sadness  showed  on  every  face.  He 
concluded,  and  an  oppressive  silence  settled  upon  the  company, 
so  profound  that  I  could  feel  the  reproach  which  seemed  thus 
cast  upon  my  Nation.  The  melancholy  gravity  natural  to  the 
Cherokee  countenance  seemed  to  deepen  to  the  intensity  of  a 
fixed  despair;  young  and  old  had  the  same  solemn  quiet,  and 
even  the  rosy  little  girl  bowed  her  head  almost  to  the  table? 
and  her  sweet  sad  face  seemed  shadowed  with  the  wrongs  of 
three  generations  of  her  race. 

To  a  question  about  the  wishes  of  the  full  bloods,  the  speaker 
replied:  u  Well,  the  full  bloods  won't  take  any  vigorous  action. 
They  are  an  indifferent  sort  of  people.  They  just  say,  Let  it 
alone.  If  the  United  States  is  a  mind  to  break  all  treaties  and  all 
agreements,  and  break  us  up  and  destroy  us,  they'll  do  it  any- 
how. They  can  do  it,  and  we  arn't  able  to  stop  it.  General 
Jackson  swore  by  his  Maker  that  this  land  should  be  ours 
'  while  grass  grew  and  water  run,'  and  if  they're  a  mind  to 
break  that,  why  they'll  have  to  do  it,  that's  all.  That's  the  way 
the  full  bloods  talk  about  it,  sir.  They  won't  do  anything  at 
all  about  it,  just  wait  for  it  as  if  it  was  a  storm  or  a  streak  of 
lightning.''" 

From  this  and  other  conversation  I  found  there  were  three 
distinct  parties  among  the  Cherokees  : 

First — the  Territorial  party  :  in  favor  of  Oklahoma  and  white 
immigration,  after  setting  apart,  in  fee  simple,  a  considerable 
farm  to  each  Indian. 

Second — the  Ockmulkee  Constitution  party :  in  favor  of 
sectionizing  the  land,  giving  each  Indian  his  farm  and  the  two 
railroads  their  grant,  keeping  all  the  rest  in  common  as  it  is 
now,  and  uniting  all  the  tribes  under  one  government  of  their 
own  (the  Ockmulkee  Constitution),  with  American  citizenship 
and  local  courts ;  but  no  territorial  arrangement  and  no  white 
settlement. 

Third — The  party  in  favor  of  the  present  condition. 

On  further  examination  I  found  that  the  first  party  was  very 


UP   TO   KANSAS.  361 

small  among  all  the  tribes — or  rather  Nations — and  that  the  mem- 
bers of  it  were  regarded  as  traitors  to  their  race ;  that  the  third 
party  had  as  yet  a  large  majority  of  the  whole  people,  but  that 
the  Ockmulkee  Constitution  promised  most  for  the  Indians, 
and  had  the  support  of  their  most  able  men. 

After  four  days  in  the  "  Nation,"  I  changed  my  mind  and 
concluded  to  go  northward,  and  do  my  railroad  traveling  while 
early  spring  was  giving  way  to  settled  weather ;  for  I  found 
March  the  worst  period  to  travel  afoot  or  on  horseback  through 
the  country.  The  sloughs  are  full,  the  streams  are  swollen,  and 
the  prairie  roads  muddy,  though  fast  drying  under  the  warm 
winds.  About  April  15th  the  delightful  season  begins  in  that 
section,  for  the  period  our  Ohio  poets  celebrate  as  May  lasts 
there  from  April  till  the  middle  or  last  of  May. 

So  I  took  the  Missouri,  Kansas  and  Texas  Road  northward 
for  a  brief  trip  into  Southern  Kansas.  From  Vinita  it  is  but 
thirty  miles  to  the  Kansas  border.  The  country  along  the  way 
bears  the  same  general  character  as  below — gently  rolling  and 
moderately  fertile  prairies,  with  clear  but  somewhat  sluggish 
streams,  and  occasional  clumps  of  rather  inferior  timber.  Near 
the  road,  in  a  small  grove,  a  cabin  was  pointed  out  to  me  where 
the  once  noted  Perry  Fuller  spent  a  winter  in  company  with 
the  "  White  Cherokee,"  Boudinot.  Fuller  had  been  engaged 
in  some  questionable  transactions  with  the  Indian  ring,  and  had 
his  reasons  for  wishing  to  live  somewhat  secluojed  for  a  while. 
Accordingly  he  and  Boudinot  stocked  this  cabin  plentifully  with 
the  Democratic  necessaries  of  life,  and  spent  a  few  months  very 
agreeably  there,  the  place  being  then  comparatively  unknown, 
and  visited  by  none  but  their  particular  friends.  "  White 
Cherokees"  tell  me  there  are  many  "  tricks  that  are  dark" 
being  operated  all  along  the  border  even  to  this  day.  The 
Territory  swarms  with  United  States  Marshals  and  deputies,  but 
white  residents  insinuate  that  nobody  is  arrested  who  cares  to 
avoid  it  and  is  pecuniarily  able  to  do  so. 

As  we  near  the  edge  of  Kansas  a  sudden  and  surprising 
change  occurs.  From  east  to  west  appears  an  even  line,  with 
fence  nearly  all  the  way — on  the  south  side  an  unbroken 


362  SOUTHERN    KANSAS. 

prairie,  on  the  north  farms,  orchards,  nice  dwellings  and  every 
evidence  of  civilization.  If  on  Fourth  Street,  Cincinnati,  the 
north  side  should  remain  as  it  is  and  the  south  side  utterly 
vanish,  leaving  an  unbroken  plain  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach, 
the  change  would  scarcely  be  more  striking.  There  is  no  gentle, 
almost  imperceptible  fading  away  from  cultivation  to  wilderness ; 
it  is  a  sudden  jump  from  civilization  to  nature's  wildness,  a  sight 
every  hour  presenting  powerful  arguments  in  favor  of  the  white 
settlement  policy  for  the  "Nation."  It  is  an  argument  the 
Kansians  appreciate,  and  once  over  the  border  I  found  the 
popular  view  of  the  Indian  question  wonderfully  changed. 
There  is  no  casuistry  in  the  Kansian  view.  They  take  the  high 
ground  that  that  land  was  put  there  to  be  fenced,  broke,  culti- 
vated and  improved ;  and  if  the  Cherokees  will  not  do  it,  rf  why, 
d — n  'em,  the  Government  ought  to  let  them  have  it  that  will 
do  it." 

In  my  tour  through  Southern  Kansas  I  everywhere  observed, 
as  I  neared  the  Indian  border,  the  hostility  to  that  people 
steadily  increasing.  In  Allen  and  the  counties  north,  it  took 
the  form  merely  of  a  mild  and  rational  objection  to  the  neigh- 
borhood of  such  a  people.  A  little  further  south,  a  stern  oppo- 
sition to  showing  any  more  favor  to  the  race ;  and  along  the 
border,  an  intense,  almost  fanatical  hostility,  and  an  expressed 
desire  to  "  exterminate  every  red  devil  of  'em."  The  borderer 
has  no  faith  whatever  in  Grant's  policy,  or  any  other  policy 
looking  toward  the  civilization  of  the  Indian.  He  is  an  enthu- 
siastic believer  in  the  theory  of  "  doomed  races." 

Old  Presbyterians  who  had  lived  upon  the  border  here  for 
ten  or  fifteen  years,  told  me  they  had  never  seen  a  Christian 
Indian,  had  never  had  a  reliable  account  of  one;  that  they  were 
convinced  the  natives  were  a  reprobate  race,  and  there  never 
was  one  soundly  and  truly  converted.  The  testimony  of  other 
denominations  was  about  the  same.  The  Kansian  view  con- 
tinues :  Why  should  the  Indian  be  fed,  housed  and  clothed  at 
our  expense,  and  at  the  same  time  be  allowed  to  roam  over  an 
empire,  keeping  white  men  out  of  the  best  portion  of  the  public 
domain  ?  Why  not  make  them  citizens,  with  the  same  rights 


KANSAS   VS.   THE    INDIAN.  363 

to  take  and  hold  a  given  piece  of  land  as  other  citizens  ?  The 
answer,  of  course,  is  that  when  that  thing  is  done  the  Indian's 
day  is  also  done;  he  can  never  stand  in  competition  with  his 
white  neighbor,  and  will  pass  away.  The  reply  comes  back : 
If  the  Indian  cannot  stand  on  his  own  personal  merit,  or  with 
any  native  strength,  then  he  has  no  right  to  stand  at  all ;  he 
must  go  sooner  or  later  anyhow,  and  the  cheapest  and  most 
merciful  way  is  the  best.  The  neighborhood  of  the  savage  is 
an  aggravation,  and  the  virtuous  Kansian  is  indignant  because 
the  occasional  Indian  will  steal,  and  will  not  be  chaste  and 
temperate.  The  pivotal  point  of  much  of  this  talk  is  the  Indian 
Territory,  which  the  Kansian  thinks  by  far  the  richest  and  most 
desirable  of  all  the  sections  yet  within  the  disposition  of  the 
Government. 

The  people  of  Kansas  have  seen  altogether  too  much  of  that 
region  to  rest  in  peace.  They  have  traversed  it  in  the  purchase 
of  stock;  they  have  driven  cattle  through  it  from  Texas;  they 
have  pursued  thieves  into  it,  and  the  universal  testimony,  as 
given  to  me,  is,  "  the  finest  country,  sir,  God  ever  made."  On 
that  country  every  young  Kansian  has  his  eye  fixed.  Young 
men  living  on  the  border  already  have  their  quarter-sections 
picked  out  in  the  Nation,  ready  to  jump  at  a  moment's  notice, 
rush  over  and  take  possession.  People  easily  believe  what  they 
wish,  and  hence  the  universal  opinion  in  Southern  Kansas  is 
that  the  Indian  Territory  will  be  sectionized  and  thrown  open 
to  settlement  in  three  years  at  the  farthest.  Should  such  action 
be  taken  by  Congress,  then  all  former  excitements  in  our 
Western  settlement  would  be  as  nothing  compared  to  the  "rush" 
which  would  take  place.  At  least  half  a  million  people,  from 
Kansas  to  Pennsylvania,  are  waiting  for  some  such  chance;  for, 
be  it  remembered,  the  good  land  still  at  the  disposal  of  our 
Government  is  pretty  nearly  exhausted.  Southwestern  Kansas 
and  the  Indian  Territory  are  the  last  I  know  of  in  this  direc- 
tion. East  of  the  mountains  the  limits  of  pioneering  are  rapidly 
narrowing,  and  men  will  not  settle  in  the  interior  valleys,  be- 
tween the  Black  Hills  and  the  Sierras,  and  irrigate  little  patches, 
until  every  other  chance  is  exhausted.  Religious  fanaticism 


364  OCKMULKEE  OR  OCKLAHOMA. 

alone  induced  the  Mormons  to  colonize  the  interior  while  so 
much  good  land  remained  east  of  the  mountains.  Here  is  a 
region  containing  more  good  land  unoccupied  than  the  culti- 
vatible  area  of  Indiana. 

Let  Congress  pass  an  enabling  act  for  that  Territory,  and  in 
three  months  these  roads  leading  southward  from  Kansas  City 
and  Lawrence  would  double  their  business ;  in  six  months  it 
would  quadruple.  Throw  open  the  Territory  next  January, 
and  it  would  be  ready  for  admission  as  a  State  by  January, 
1875.  There  is  unoccupied  land  for  a  hundred  thousand 
homesteads.  Settle  it  with  white  men,  and  the  lands  of  South- 
ern Kansas  would  nearly  double  in  value.  During  the  process 
of  settlement,  they  would  have  a  ready  market  at  their  doors 
for  all  kinds  of  provisions  at  high  prices.  A  troublesome 
border  question  would  be  settled,  and  several  border  towns 
would  take  a  new  lease  of  life  from  the  consequent  trade.  All 
the  public  lines  through  Missouri  and  Arkansas  would  largely 
increase  their  business,  and  Texas  and  Louisiana  would  share 
in  the  benefits.  It  will  be  seen  that  many  powerful  interests 
would  unite  even  now  in  furtherance  of  the  scheme,  so  many 
that  Congress  would  probably  resist  but  feebly.  All  the  dele- 
gations in  the  Senate  and  House  from  Kansas,  Missouri, 
Arkansas,  Louisiana  and  Texas  would  be  enthusiastic  in  its 
favor,  and  other  border  States  would  join  from  natural  sympa- 
thy. All  these  railroad  interests  press  strongly  in  the  same 
direction.  Thus  the  proposition  would  start  in  Congress,  with 
a  powerful  party,  and  despite  what  Eastern  members  may 
think  of  the  inherent  merits  of  the  scheme,  or  of  natural  justice 
toward  the  Indian,  I  am  led  to  think  that  the  Kansians  antici- 
pate rightly,  and  that  the  Territory  will  be  open  to  settlement 
before  1875.  These  arguments  are  ever  present  to  Congress- 
men and  lobbyists,  while  the  protest  of  the  Indians  yearly 
sounds  more  feeble ;  and  unless  the  Indian  nations  can  be  per- 
suaded to  adopt  Ockmulkee,  they  may  soon  be  compelled  to 
accept  Ocklahoma. 

A  little  west  of  the  railroad,  where  the  beautiful  Arkansas 
Valley  widens  southward  into  the  Territory,  hundreds  are 


NEUTRAL    STRIP. 


365 


squatted  on  the  border,  only  waiting  to  rush  over  and  take 
possession  of  public  lands  they  have  already  marked  out  for 
themselves.  I  think  they  are  mistaken  as  to  the  amount  of 
good  land  they  will  have  to  select  from.  Of  course,  if  the 
Territory  is  thrown  open,  a  liberal  allotment  will  be  made  for 
each  family  of  Indians,  who  will  have  the  first  pick ;  and  they 
will  choose  all  the  land  lying  along  the  streams,  the  best  and 
best  timbered.  The  railroads  will  next  secure  liberal  grants, 
and  the  general  settler  will  find  his  choice  limited. 

On  the  border  we 
first  enter  the  "  neutral 
strip,"  a  large  tongue 
of  land  commencing  on 
the  southwestern  cor- 
ner, with  a  width  of 
four  or  five  miles,  and 
gradually  narrowing 
westward,  in  the  shape 
of  a  long  wedge,  be- 
tween the  State  and 
the  "  Nation."  It  was 
caused  by  some  error 
of  the  surveyors  at  the 
time  the  Cherokees 
ceded  their  Kansas 
lands.  It  is  settled,  but 
not  yet  surveyed,  and 
belongs  unquestionably 
to  the  State  which 
exercises  jurisdiction  "MOSS  AGATES." 

over  it. 

Leaving  the  "strip,"  we  enter  the  town  ("city,"  they  call  it,) 
of  Chetopa,  a  lively  community  of  some  two  thousand  people, 
the  southern  line  of  the  city  being  also  the  original  State  line. 
I  rest  here  a  day,  and  find  the  place  red  hot  with  the  excite- 
ment of  an  approaching  municipal  election.  The  "Anti-Cor- 
ruptionists "  (i.  e.,  those  out  of  office,)  are  holding  meetings 


366  LOCAL   POLITICS. 

day  and  night,  and  have  developed  evidence  of  "  astounding 
frauds."  The  "  Corruptionists,"  (those  who  have  run  the  city 
for  the  past  two  years,)  point  to  "  magnificent  public  works." 
The  names  of  Tweed,  Hall  and  Connolly  are  taken  in  vain 
every  hour  of  the  day,  as  bases  of  infamous  comparison ;  and 
the  last  issue  of  the  Chetopa  Advance  shows,  by  actual  figures, 
that  "Mayor  Fox  and  his  guilty  coadjutors  have  wronged  the 
city  out  of  the  enormous  sum  of  ten  thousand  dollars."  [Five 
exclamation  points.]  All  the  frauds  in  New  York  and  Cin- 
cinnati are  as  nothing  compared  to  this!  A  general  meeting 
of  the  friends  of  reform,  a  few  evenings  before,  was  invaded  by 
the  "  Corruptionists,"  a  row  occurred,  pistols  were  freely  dis- 
played, and  speakers  were  driven  off  the  stand.  The  night  of 
my  stay  J.  W.  Homer,  editor  of  the  Advance,  was  assaulted 
upon  the  street  by  a  friend  of  Mayor  Fox,  and  appeared  at  our 
table  next  morning  with  a  beautiful  set  of  "  moss  agates "  (as  we 
say  in  Utah),  wearing  them,  however,  upon  his  eyes  instead  of 
his  shirt. 

It  appeared  as  if  " Bleeding  Kansas"  was  about  to  bleed  again 
in  the  cause  of  municipal  reform.  This  is  the  age  of  investiga- 
tion, and  the  Reformers  of  Chetopa  had  begun  vigorously,  hav- 
ing, besides  their  own  municipal  affairs,  lodged  indictments 
against  most  of  the  Senators  and  public  men  of  the  State.  The 
ordinary  rule  of  criminal  law  appears  to  have  been  reversed, 
and  Kansas  Senators  are  held  to  be  guilty  until  they  prove 
themselves  innocent. 

I  made  a  flying  visit  to  Lawrence,  where  I  had  the  good 
fortune  to  meet  Mr.  C.  G.  De  Bruler  of  the  Cincinnati  Times- 
Chronicle  (now  of  the  Evansville  Journal),  on  the  same  mission 
as  myself;  and  together  we  returned  to  the  Indian  country  the 
first  week  in  April. 

The  "growing  season"  seemed  fairly  set  in  in  Southern 
Kansas,  fast  tinging  the  prairies  with  a  rich  shade  of  green, 
and  farmers  everywhere  were  busy  with  the  spring  crops.  We 
stopped  for  twenty- four  hours  at  Parsons,  the  terminus  of  the 
Sedalia  Division  of  the  M.  K.  &  T.,  and,  we  are  positively  in- 
formed, "the  future  metropolis  of  Southern  Kansas,"  "railroad 


MUSCOGEE.  367 

center/'  etc.  For  particulars  see  land  circulars,  and  the  columns 
of  the  Parsons  Sun.  We  ran  thence  down  the  M.  K.  &  T., 
passed  Chetopa  just  at  dark,  and  by  midnight  were  ninety  miles 
from  the  border  at  the  new  town  of  Muscogee,  then  the  ter- 
minus of  the  passenger  division,  though  the  road  was  com- 
pleted to  Canadian  River. 

I  opened  my  eyes  next  morning  upon  a  long,  straggling, 
miserable  railroad  town,  the  exact  image  of  a  Union  Pacific 
"  city,"  in  the  last  stages  of  decay.  Some  two  hundred  yards 
from  the  railroad  a  single  street  extended  for  nearly  a  quarter 
of  a  mile;  the  buildings  were  rude  shanties,  frame  and  canvas 
tents  and  log  cabins,  open  to  the  wind,  which  blew  a  hurricane 
for  the  thirty-six  hours  I  was  there.  If  Mr.  Lo,  "  the  poor 
Indian,"  does  in  fact  "see  God  in  the  clouds  and  hear  Him  in 
the  wind"  as  the  poet  tells  us,  he  has  a  simple  and  benign 
creed  which  gives  him  an  audible  and  ever-present  deity  in 
this  country,  for  the  wind  is  constant  and  of  a  character  to  pre- 
vent forgetful  ness.  The  weather  is  mild  and  pleasant  enough, 
but  walking  against  the  wind  is  very  laborious,  and  the  howl- 
ing so  constant  as  to  make  conversation  difficult  inside  a  tent. 
I  have  observed  in  my  travels  that  windy  countries  are  gener- 
ally healthful,  but  a  different  report  is  given  here.  They  say 
bilious  diseases  of  all  kinds'prevail,  and  complain  particularly 
of  fever,  ague  and  pneumonia. 

We  ate  in  the  "Pioneer  boarding  car/7  and  slept  in  another 
car  attached ;  five  of  them  being  placed  on  a  side  track, 
anchored  down  and  converted  into  a  pretty  good  hotel.  Here 
and  about  the  depot  were  the  citizens  employed  on  the  road. 
Of  the  town  proper,  a  majority  of  the  citizens  were  negroes, 
with  them  a  few  whites  of  doubtful  "  rep./'  and  perhaps  a 
dozen  Indians.  The  negroes  were  formerly  slaves  to  the 
Indians,  but  slavery  here  was  never  severe,  and  they  are  little 
more  their  own  masters  than  before.  They  earned  a  precarious 
subsistence,  the  women  by  washing  and  the  men  by  teaming 
and  chopping,  and  were  all  sunk  deep,  deep  in  poverty  and 
ignorance.  All  day  the  wenches  were  strolling  about  in  groups, 
bareheaded,  barefooted,  half  naked,  stupid-looking,  ragged  and 


368  MUSCOKEE. 

destitute.  Here,  as  at  Vinita,  I  saw  no  farms,  no  signs  of  cul- 
tivation. The  Indians  live  off  the  railroad,  in  the  timber,  and 
along  the  streams.  On  the  road  is  no  enterprise,  no  improve- 
ment, no  trade  of  account  that  I  can  see.  Three  grocery  stores, 
a  tobacco  shop  and  a  few  meat  markets  completed  the  town. 
The  rest  were  cabins,  filled  with  greasy  wenches  and  lounging 
bucks.  Around  the  town,  far  as  the  eye  can  reach,  extend 
fertile  prairies  of  a  rich  green,  rivaling  Ohio  meadows  in  May, 
while  five  miles  northeast  a  heavy  line  of  timber  marks  the 
course  of  the  Arkansas. 

Muscokee,  or,  if  spelled  as  pronounced,  Mooskokee,  is  the 
aboriginal  name  for  the  tribe  we  call  Creeks,  and  having 
decided  to  thoroughly  inspect  these  Indian  sovereignties,  and 
their  relations  to  each  other  and  the  General  Government,  we 
begin  with  these. 


CHAPTEK    XX. 


MUSCOKEE. 

Desperadoes  —  Laxity  of  Government  —  Out  to  the  Agency  —  Stirring  up  a  rattler 

—  "A  free  nigger  settlement"  —  Creek  History  —  Tallahassee  Mission  —  Delight- 
ful experiences  —  Creek  education  —  System  of  government  —  Back  to  Muscogee 

—  Reckless  shooting  —  State  of  the  region. 


RAD.  COLLINS  is  on  a  big  spree,  ain't  he?" 
"  You  bet  he's  a  chargin'." 
"Killed  anybody  yet?" 

"  No,  only  had  one  fuss.     Him  and  two  other  Chero- 
kees  went  into  the  car  last   night  with   cocked   six- 
shooters,  and  scared  some  Eastern  fellers  dirned  near  to  death." 
"Mind  the  time  he  shot  that  ar  marshal?" 
"  I  reckon  !  killed  him  right  in  front  of  this  car.     Shot  at 
him  twice  afore.     Fetched  him  dead  that  time.     Then  come  in 
next  day  and  give  himself  up.    Tuck  him  down  to  Fort  Smith, 
and  turned  him  loose  in  a  little  while.     Lord,  that  Court  don't 
amount  to  nothin'.     Anybody  'at's  got  money  can  git  away 
thar." 

"  Marshal's  got  a  good  thing,  though." 
"  I  see  you  ;  best  place  to  make  money  in  the  United  States. 
These  Deputies  are  the  biggest  rascals  in  the  country.     That 
Court  is  a  disgrace  to  the  American  people,  and  '11  ruin  us  here 

yet." 

Such  is  a  small  part  of  the  conversation  we  heard  our  second 
morning  at  the  table  of  the  dining-car  in  Muscogee.  It  was 
anything  but  encouraging  to  a  man  of  peaceful  proclivities.  A 
few  days  after,  I  had  my  first  view  of  this  somewhat  notorious 
Bradley  Collins.  I  was  sitting  in  the  tent  of  an  old  Cherokee 
woman  in  Muscogee,  listening  to  her  account  of  the  expulsion 
24  369 


370 


"BRAD.  COLLINS.' 


AMUSEMENTS  AT   MUSCOGEE. 

»from  the  "  old  Nation  in  Geawgey,"  when  shots  were  heard  not 
far  off,  and  an  athletic,  rosy-featured  young  man  came  running 
by  the  tent  door  with  a  pistol  in  his  hand.  The  old  woman 
merely  said,  "  Bradley's  got  his  shooter ;  there's  a  fuss  some'ers," 
and  went  out  for  a  look.  It  proved  to  be  nothing  but  some 
freedmen  practicing  on  a  stray  hog,  a  wanderer  from  the  Creek 
farms,  which  they  brought  down  after  a  dozen  shots!  Collins 
walked  back  with  a  marked  air  of  disappointment,  muttering: 
"  If  I  couldn't  hit  a  hog  first  shot,  I'd  throw  away  my  pistol ;" 
and  the  old  lady  entertained  me  with  his  history,  which  has 
since  been  more  than  verified  by  others.  He  is  nearly  white, 
an  outcast  from  the  Cherokee  Nation,  a  smuggler  of  whisky,  a 
desperado,  and  a  dead  shot.  It  is  said  that  he  has  been  known 


CHEROKEE   ROUGHS.  371 

to  throw  a  pistol  in  the  air,  causing  it  to  make  half  a  dozen 
turns,  catch  it  as  it  fell,  bring  it  instantly  to  a  level,  and  strike 
an  apple  at  thirty  paces.  He  is  reported  "so  quick  on  trigger," 
that  all  the  other  "shootists"  in  the  country  have  an  awe  of 
him.  He  is  known  to  have  killed  three  men,  and  was  then 
under  bond  of  one  thousand  dollars  to  appear  at  the  May  term 
of  the  Federal  Court  in  Fort  Smith,  for  shooting  at  a  United 
States  Marshal  with  intent  to  kill.  Many  excuse  him  in  the 
case  where  he  actually  killed  a  Marshal,  as  it  was  a  private 
quarrel,  in  which  both  had  sworn  to  "  shoot  on  sight."  Asso- 
ciated with  him  were  a  dozen  or  more  young  "  White  Cherokees," 
who  were  suspected  of  being  robbers,  and  known  to  be  drunk- 
ards and  gamblers.  A  dozen  such  men  can  do  the  cause  of 
Cherokee  independence  and  nationality  more  harm  than  all  the 
Rosses  arid  Downings  and  their  able  compeers  can  do  it  good. 
But  we  must  take  all  we  hear  on  the  railroad  with  this  impor- 
tant qualification  :  It  is  the  interest  and  policy  of  these  railroads 
to  belittle  the  Cherokee  government,  and  make  its  officers 
appear  as  inefficient,  and  its  few  criminals  as  desperate  and 
dangerous,  as  possible.  And  the  roads  themselves  have  added 
a  vast  amount  of  evidence  in  favor  of  their  indictments  against 
the  Indian  governments.  The  records  are  simply  horrible. 
During  the  few  weeks  that  the  terminus  and  stage  offices  were 
at  Muscogee  and  Gibson,  sixteen  murders  were  committed  at 
these  two  places,  and  in  a  very  short  time  five  more  were  killed 
at  the  next  terminus.  One  man  was  shot  all  to  pieces  just  \n 
front  of  the  dining-car  at  Muscogee,  and  another  had  his  throat 
cut  at  night,  almost  in  the  middle  of  the  town.  It  is  true, 
strangers,  travelers  and  outsiders  are  rarely  if  ever  troubled. 
These  murders  are  upon  their  own  class,  and  new-comers  who 
are  weak  enough  to  mix  in,  drink  and  gamble  with  them.  But 
a  few  days  before  our  arrival  a  Texan  reached  Canadian  Station 
with  the  proceeds  of  a  cattle  sale.  He  met  these  fellows  at 
night,  was  seen  at  10  o'clock  with  them,  drunk  and  generous 
with  his  money ;  a  few  days  after  his  body  was  washed  ashore 
some  miles  down  the  Canadian.  And  yet  I  am  assured,  and  I 
believe  it,  a  man  with  a  legitimate  business,  and  who  will  let 


372  START    FOB   THE    AGENCY. 

whisky  alone,  can  travel  through  this  country  as  safely  as  ir 
Cincinnati.  The  better  class  of  Cherokees  regard  these  railroad 
towns  with  perfect  horror,  and  are  never  seen  about  them 
These  young  desperadoes  are  permitted  to  enter  the  Creel? 
nation,  but  not  the  Choctaw.  The  latter  complain  that  the 
Creeks  can  only  execute  their  law  with  their  own  people.  Th( 
Cherokees,  when  one  of  their  young  men  begins  to  lounge  aboul 
the  railroad  towns,  give  him  up  as  an  outcast,  or  consider  him 
the  same  as  dead.  Off  the  road,  in  their  country,  all  was  peace 
and  quiet;  on  the  road,  gambling,  rioting  and  death. 

The  night  "Brick"  Pomeroy  reached  Muscogee  three  men 
were  shot  dead.  Brick  walked  from  the  train  to  the  dining- 
car,  and  spent  the  night;  walked  thence  to  the  earliest  morning 
train  and  left  the  Territory.  The  railroad  men  tell  rather 
amusing  stories  of  the  way  he  "saw  the  country." 

After  two  days  at  this  lively  town,  we  concluded  we  had 
better  see  the  Creeks  at  home,  and  started  afoot  for  the  Agency, 
traveling  over  a  beautiful,  rich  prairie,  gently  rolling,  rising 
from  the  river  into  long  ridges,  which  occasionally  terminated 
in  sharp  bluffs,  crowned  with  pretty  groves.  The  prospect  was 
delightful  by  nature,  and  was  not  a  little  enlivened  by  scattered 
herds  of  cattle  cropping  the  rich  green  herbage. 

In  the  balmy  air,  and  with  the  fair  prospect  before  us,  we 
had  quite  forgotten  the  sort  of  country  we  were  in,  when  a  sight 
of  some  gliding  creature  in  the  road  brought  us  to  a  halt,  and  on 
the  instant  a  sudden  whir-r-r-h-r-a-a-h  and  a  sharp  hiss  caused 
the  two  Bohemians  to  execute  a  double  step  backward,  which 
would  have  done  credit  to  a  stage  gymnast.  While  we  stood 
in  doubtful  expectation  (fifty  feet  off),  the  reptile  curled  his 
shining  folds  into  a  circle  about  the  width  of  a  peck  measure, 
and  raised  a  head  which  said  as  plain  as  words,  "Noli  me 
tangere."  He  was  of  a  pale  purple  color,  with  beautifully  flow- 
ered spots  of  steel  gray  running  in  spirals  from  head  to  tail, 
which,  as  he  moved  in  the  bright  sunshine,  glistened  in  a 
manner  that  would  have  been  beautiful  in  anything  but  a  rattle- 
snake. We  knew  him  by  his  popular  description,  for  the  prin- 
cipal amusement  of  the  old  settlers  had  been  to  tell  us  what 


QUEER   CREA TUBES. 


373 


kind  of  "insects"  we  should  encounter  in  the  country,  assuring 
us,  "  on  the  honor  of  a  man,  sir,"  that  their  ordinary  jump  was 
twenty  feet,  and  their  bite  certain  death.  I  remembered,  how- 
ever, enough  of  my  boyhood  experience  in  the  "  breaks"  of  the 
Wabash  to  know  that  a  rattlesnake  could  only  jump  his  length, 
and  that  we  were  reasonably  safe  at  fifty  feet.  So  we  took 
observations,  and  being  satisfied  that  his  serpentship  had  a  pre- 
emption right  (there  wasn't  a  stick  or  stone  in  a  mile),  we  took 
a  wide  detour  and  trav- 
eled on.  We  sat  down  by 
a  stream  to  rest,  and  out 
of  the  dead  grass  there 
crawled,  or  rather  wab- 
bled, a  something  which 
we  could  not  classify. 
It  was  about  the  size 
and  color  of  a  small 
Easter  egg,  with  a  pleas- 
ing variety  of  legs  and 
bristles,  and  appeared 
to  walk  sideways  and 
backward  with  ease. 
It  might  be  a  tarantula, 
and  it  might  not;  we 
did  not  know.  We 
went  away  from  there 
also.  We  were  study- 
ing Indians  this  time, 
and  not  natural  his- 
tory. 

Two  hours  brisk  walking  brought  us  into  a  settled  and  partly 
cultivated  country,  a  region  of  rude  log  cabins  and  gaunt  farm 
stock,  where  black  faces  peered  at  us  through  the  cracks  of 
"  worm  fences,"  and  occasional  "  free  nigger "  patches  showed 
something  like  civilization.  A  colored  girl  replied  in  answer 
to  our  queries,  "  Agency  over  thar,"  and  a  mile  further  brought 
us  to  a  beautiful  grove,  in  which  was  an  irregular  square  of 


RAISING  A  NATIVE. 


374  BLACK    CREEKS. 

• 

log  cabins,  including  some  three  or  four  acres.  We  saw  no 
signs  of  Government  buildings,  and  but  one  neat,  commodious 
house.  There  we  were  directed  to  a  double-log  building,  cor- 
responding to  those  of  the  poorest  farmers  in  Indiana,  some 
distance  from  the  square  in  a  field,  and  that  we  found  to  be  the 
Agency.  Here  we  were  welcomed  by  Major  J.  G.  Yore  and 
his  assistant,  Mr.  A.  S.  Purinton,  who  have  charge  of  the  place 
during  the  absence  at  Washington -of  the  Agent,  Major  Lyon. 
Major  Vore  has  been  in  this  country,  and  among  the  Indians 
of  Texas  and  New  Mexico,  for  twenty-seven  years,  and  is  a 
walking  encyclopedia  of  aboriginal  history.  To  him  we  are 
indebted  for  many  courtesies  and  facilities  in  obtaining  informa- 
tion. 

This  settlement  has  the  general  appearance  of  an  abandoned 
camp-meeting  ground  in  the  backwoods  of  Ohio,  and  is  in- 
habited almost  entirely  by  negroes,  who  have  literally  invaded 
the  Agency.  A  continuous  line  of  settlements  and  farms,  or 
rather  "patches/'  extends  ten  miles  along  the  Arkansas,  with  a 
population  of  about  a  thousand  negroes  and  perhaps  a  hundred 
Creeks.  The  soil  in  this  vicinity  is  of  inexhaustible  fertility. 
I  walked  through  fields  of  lately  planted  corn,  and  in  the 
patches  of  thriving  vegetables,  and  noted  everywhere  a  loose 
and  active  soil,  as  black,  as  rich,  and  as  easily  cultivated  as  any 
part  of  the  Wabash  "  bottoms."  None  but  the  poorest  and 
lowest  of  the  Creeks  will  live  among  these  freedmen,  and  on 
this  beautiful  and  fertile  tract,  capable  of  producing  in  amazing 
quantities  all  the  fruits  and  grains  of  the  temperate  zone,  a 
thousand  or  two  of  these  creatures  live  in  dirt,  ignorance  and 
abject  poverty,  barely  one  remove  from  actual  starvation.  To 
go  from  this  "  free-nigger  settlement"  to  a  town  of  pure  Creeks, 
as  I  did,  seems  like  emerging  from  barbarism  to  enlightenment, 
for  my  opinion  of  the  Creeks  has  been  considerably  raised  since 
I  have  seen  them  at  home.  The  appearance  and  conversation  of 
the  pure  Creeks — above  all,  the  practical  results  they  are  able 
to  show — are  calculated  to  give  one  high  hopes  of  the  race,  and 
of  the  results  of  the  present  policy.  They  are  quite  different 
in  appearance  from  the  Cherokees — stouter,  but  not  so  elegant; 


CREEK    HISTORY. 


375 


AT   THE  CREEK  AGENCY. 

shorter,  broader,  and  rather  darker;  without  the  high  cheek 
bones  and  solemn  gravity  of  the  others,  and  with  a  more 
cheerful  and  kindly  expression.  The  white  traders  say  they 
are  more  industrious  than  the  Cherokees,  but  less  intelligent. 
The  history  of  the  Muscokee  or  Creek  nation  is  like  an 
aboriginal  romance.  There  is  a  consistency,  directness  and  air 
of  history  about  their  traditions,  which  is  seldom  found  in  sav- 
age histories.  They  begin  at  a  period  many  generations  before 
the  coming  of*  the  whites.  They  then  occupied  a  region  far 
west  of  the  Mississippi — somewhere  in  Northern  Texas,  they 
think — from  which  they  slowly  moved  eastward  as  a  nation  of 
predatory  warriors.  After  crossing  the  Arkansas,  they  heard 
of  a  people  north  of  them  leading  the  same  life,  speaking  the 


376  CREEK   HISTORY. 

same  language  and  using  the  same  medicines  and  war-whoop. 
Embassadors  were  sent,  the  two  tribes  met,  and,  though  their 
kinship  could  not  be  traced,  they  formally  united,  and,  ever 
since,  the  two  divisions  have  been  known  as  Upper  and  Lower 
Creeks. 

The  combined  tribes  moved  eastward  and  attacked  a  nation 
afterward  known  as  the  Alabarnas,  then  living  on  the  western 
bank  of  the  Mississippi.  After  a  long  and  bloody  contest  the 
Alabamas  Avere  driven  northward,  and  the  Muscokees  took  pos- 
session of  their  towns.  Many  years  after,  they  heard  of  the 
Alabamas,  went  after  them  and  again  defeated  them,  the  latter 
this  time  crossing  the  Mississippi  and  settling  somewhere  between 
that  and  the  Ohio.  The  next  generation  of  Creeks  renewed  the 
war,  crossed  the  Mississippi  and  again  drove  the  Alabamas,  who 
traveled  a  whole  season  toward  the  south,  and  settled  in  what 
is  now  probably  the  State  of  Mississippi.  The  Creeks  also 
turned  toward  the  south,  and  in  the  next  generation  .again  -came 
upon  the  Alabamas,  and  destroyed  all  but  a  remnant,  who  fled 
eastward  and  settled  in  a  valley  in  the  present  State  of  Alabama. 
Learning  that  their  hereditary  enemies  were  again  upon  the 
move,  they  sent  a  deputation  and  sued  for  peace.  The  Creeks 
had  from  time  immemorial  pursued  a  policy  of  absorption 
similar  to  that  of  the  ancient  Romans.  When  they  met  a 
strange  people,  the  first  move  was  war.  If  the  attacked  fought 
desperately  and  were  only  conquered  after  a  long  struggle,  the 
victors  pronounced  them  worthy  to  be  Muscokees,  and  adopted 
the  remnant  into  their  tribe.  They  now  adopted  the  Alabamas, 
\vho  maintain  a  separate  race  and  language  in  the  Creek  Nation 
to  this  day. 

They  slowly  moved  eastward,  and  there  for  the  first  time 
came  into  conflict  with  the  Cherokees,  who  dominated  the  entire 
hill  country  of  Southeast  Tennessee,  Western  North  Carolina, 
and  Northern  Georgia  and  Alabama.  A  long  and  bloody  war 
followed.  The  Cherokees  on  their  own  ground,  among  the 
mountains,  invariably  defeated  the  Muscokees,  and  were  defeated 
when  they  ventured  into  the  country  of  the  latter.  The  Creeks 
could  neither  conquer  nor  absorb  the  Cherokees,  so  a  lasting  peace 


THE   CREEK   TROUBLES.  377 

was  made,  which  has  never  been  broken ;  they  agreed  to  be 
"friends  and  brothers  for  ever,"  and  to  the  Cherokee  was 
granted  the  right  of  "elder  brother  in  council."  This  seniority 
is  acknowledged  in  general  council  now.  The  various  tribes 
are  considered  as  ranking  in  a  peculiar  order  of  relationship. 
The  Delaware  is  considered  the  grandfather  of  all ;  the  Creeks, 
Chickasaws,  and  some  other  southern  tribes,  as  younger  brother 
to  the  Cherokee,  while  the  Choctaw  is  considered  "  the  son  of  a 
younger  brother."  What  became  of  his  father  the  old  Creeks 
were  unable  to  inform  me. 

From  this  point  the  historical  account  of  the  Creeks,  as  con- 
nected with  the  whites,  begins.  Traders  penetrating  their 
country  from  Pensacola  named  it,  from  the  number  of  streams, 
the  Creek  Country,  and  gave  the  Muscokee  Nation  the  title  of 
Creek  Confederacy.  In  the  war  of  1812  a  portion  joined  the 
British,  most  of  whom  were  driven  away  from  the  tribe  into 
Florida.  For  many  years  all  the  dissatisfied  or  turbulent  ran 
away  and  joined  these  exiles,  to  whom  the  Creeks  gave  the 
name  of  Seminole  (Say-mee-no-lay),  meaning  "  wild,"  or  "  out- 
cast." The  whites,  meanwhile,  crowded  upon  the  Creeks,  who 
assigned  most  of  their  land  by  the  treaty  of  1832,  and  had  the 
remainder  allotted  in  farms,  one  to  each  male  Indian.  The 
most  outrageous  frauds  were  then  perpetrated  upon  these  indi- 
vidual holders,  who  had  expressed  their  wish  to  cultivate  the 
land  and  live  after  the  manner  of  the  whites.  Transferring 
Agents  were  appointed  by  the  Government  to  see  that  no  Indian 
parted  with  the  title  to  his  land  through  ignorance,  as  they 
always  refused  to  sell  or  do  more  than  lease.  But  the  swindlers 
employed  half-breeds  or  renegade  Indians  to  personate  the 
actual  owner  and  sign  the  deeds  before  the  Agent.  Hundreds 
of  men  had  their  lands  sold  who  knew  nothing  of  the  trans- 
action until  called  upon  to  give  possession  to  some  third  party 
who  had  purchased  of  the  swindler.  The  buyers  called  upon 
the  Government  to  put  them  in  possession  of  their  lands;  part 
of  the  Creeks  rose  in  revolt,  the  militia  was  called  out  and  a 
general  war  threatened.  Some  of  the  men  thus  dispossessed 
were  brought  to  this  country  in  chains.  Many  Creeks  volun- 


378  ON  THE  ARKANSAS. 

teered  to  help  put  down  the  troubles,  believing  that  justice 
would  be  done.  But  in  most  cases  it  was  not,  and  old  citi- 
zens of  the  Nation  now  have  title  to  Alabama  lands  and  legal 
proof  that  they  have  never  sold  them.  The  entire  tribe  then 
agreed  to  sell,  but  were  removed  before  they  had  time  to  do  so, 
and  some  lands  there  are  yet  unsold  to  which  the  Indian  title 
is  acknowledged  good.  A  considerable  tract  which  had  been 
set  apart  "  for  orphans  of  the  Creek  Nation  too  young  to 
make  selection/7  had  been  covered  by  white  squatters ;  but  the 
Government  paid  them  for  it,  and  the  money  was  invested  as 
"Indian  Trust  Funds." 

A  few  Creeks  arrived  here  in  1825;  the  main  body  came  in 
1836  and  1837.  About  the  year  1807  a  small  band  had  gone 
to  Texas,  and  were  so  harassed  by  the  Texan  Government  that 
in  1840  and  1842  they  came  here.  A  small  portion  still  remain 
in  Florida  and  Alabama,  whom  the  Creek  Nation  are  negotiat- 
ing with,  to  induce  them  to  remove  here. 

So  much  by  way  of  history,  from  the  records  and  accounts  of 
old  Creeks  at  the  Agency.  But  we  had  not  seen  the  best  part 
of  the  Nation,  and  determined  on  a  visit  to  Tallahassee  Mission 
School — a  sort  of  college  of  the  Muscokees.  It  is  situated  a 
few  miles  north  of  the  Arkansas,  on  the  high  point  between  that 
stream  and  the  Verdigris,  and  leaving  the  Agency  at  3  p.  M. 
on  Saturday,  we  struck  down  the  hill  and  into  the  forest  which 
skirts  the  Arkansas.  The  river  was  nearly  a  mile  wide,  but 
all,  except  a  channel  of  some  three  hundred  yards  in  width,  was 
quite  shallow,  and  the  whole  stream  running  thickly  with  red 
mud.  No  one  was  in  sight  where  the  trail  struck  the  river, 
but  on  the  opposite  shore  we  made  out  something  which  might 
be  a  ferry-flat ;  so  the  two  correspondents  jointly  lifted  up  their 
voices  and  shouted,  "  Hallo— o—o !  the  boat !  "  for  about  the 
space  of  half  an  hour.  One  man  appeared,  took  his  seat  in  the 
boat  and  seemed  to  go  to  sleep.  We  shouted  another  space,  and 
two  more  men  took  the  boat,  which  one  of  them  poled  across. 
Meanwhile  the  sky  was  suddenly  overcast  with  clouds,  and  by 
the  time  we  were  conducted  by  the  ferryman  to  a  small  hut  in 
the  thicket,  a  furious  thunderstorm  broke  upon  us.  The  two 


OVER   THE   RIVER. 


379 


negroes  walked  on  to  the  settlement  without  regard  to  the  rain, 
and  left  us  with  the  Creek  ferryman,  who,  we  learn,  had  spent 
all  his  life  there,  and  yet  could  not  speak  a  word  of  English ! 
A  bright  Creek  negro  soon  arrived,  and  the  two  carried  on  a 
sort  of  conversation  in  subdued  gutturals,  which  Mr.  DeBruler 
decided  was  a  discussion  in  regard  to  the  approaching  Cincin- 
nati Convention,  but  it  was  all  Creek  to  me.  The  negro  in- 
formed us  that  lie  was 
a  Creek  slave  aafoh 
de  wah ;  run  away  and 
went  off  den,  which  I 
larnt  Ingliss,  sah."-  So 
he  acted  as  interpreter, 
and  in  an  hour  of  severe 
exertion  we  succeeded 
in  extracting  half  a 
dozen  remarks  from  the 
determinedly  reticent 
Creek.  The  storm  pas- 
sed, and  we  were  set 
a-cross  the  river,  for 
which  Charon  the  Silent 
demanded  "pahly-hok- 
kohlen  hoonunvy  — 
pahly  osten  " — rendered 
by  our  colored  linguist 
to  mean  "  twenty  cents 
a  man — forty  cents  all." 
This  we  disbursed,  and 

footed  it  across  the  bottom  over  a  road  rendered  very  toilsome 
by  the  rain.  At  dark,  splashed  and  weary,  we  reached  the 
Mission,  which  is  beautifully  situated  in  an  open  grove,  appear- 
ing to  us  a  very  haven  of  rest — fitting  emblem  of  the  faith  and 
hope  which  planted  it  in  this  wilderness.  From  the  scamper- 
ing of  little  Creeks  in  the  twilight,  we  judged  our  arrival  had 
created  something  of  a  sensation,  and  afterward  learned  the 
children  had  mistaken  us  for  new  preachers,  often  looked  for. 


A  CREEK  CHARON. 


380  AT   THE    MISSION. 

Such  a  mistake  is  excusable  in  Indian  children.  We  were 
cordially  received  and  entertained  by  the  Superintendent,  Rev. 
W.  S.  Robertson,  and  family,  which  consists  of  himself  and 
wife,  two  daughters,  accomplished  young  ladies,  and  two  small 
boys.  Five  of  the  oldest  teachers  had  left  within  .a  few  months, 
and  Mr.  Graham  and  lady  were  to  leave  in  a  few  days,  leaving 
the  entire  care  of  the  Mission  to  Mr.  Robertson  and  family. 
These  changes  were  caused  by  differences  as  .to  management, 
both  among  the  Creeks  and  the  teachers ;  and  sad  as  such  a 
result  is,  it  was  much  to  be  feared  that  the  institution  would 
close  with  that  year. 

The  building  is  a  hundred  and  twenty-five  feet  long,  with 
three  stories ;  the  lower  for  dining  halls  and  residences  for 
teachers,  the  middle  for  recitation  rooms,  the  upper  for  sleeping 
apartments.  Complete  separation  of  the  sexes  is  the  rule ;  they 
do  not  even  recite  together,  and  never  meet,  except  at  meals 
and  in  the  presence  of  the  teachers.  There  is  room,  and  the 
contract  is  made  with  the  Creek  Nation,  for  forty  boys  and 
forty  girls;  but  only  seventy  scholars  were  present,  ten  having 
been  lately  expelled  for  violation  of  the  rules.  The  building 
appears  very  old  and  dilapidated.  It  was  erected  in  1848,  but 
badly  damag.ed  during  the  war,  having  been  used  part  of  the 
time  as  a  hospital,  and  afterwards  for  a  stable. 

The  Mission  was  set  in  working  order  by  1849,  and  did 
more  than  any  other  agency  towards  the  rapid  advancement  of 
the  Creeks  for  the  ten  years  before  the  war.  It  was  founded 
by  the  agents  of  the  Presbyterian  Board  of  Home  Missions, 
who  made  an  equitable  contract  with  the  Legislature  and 
Supreme  Court  of  the  Creek  Nation.  The  Nation  appropriated 
one-third  of  the  cost,  the  United  States  Government  one-third, 
and  the  Presbyterian  Board  one-third.  The  Board  selects  the 
teachers  and  pays  their  salaries,  and  attends  generally  to  the 
intellectual  and  moral  department  of  the  school;  the  Creeks 
pay  the  expenses  and  attend  to  the  material  wants.  For  some 
years  past  they  have  appropriated  six  thousand  dollars  per  year, 
but  it  has  proved  insufficient.  The  Nation  chooses  five  Trus- 
tees who,  in  conjunction  with  the  Superintendent  of  Public 


DISCIPLINE   OF  THE  SCHOOL.  381 

Instruction  for  the  Nation,  manage  all  the  affairs  of  the  institu- 
tion, and  select  from  each  of  the  forty  Creek  towns  one  boy  and 
girl  as  scholars.  Many  of  those  who  graduated  here  before  the 
war  are  now  the  chief  men  of  the  Nation,  and  three  of  its  five 
Trustees  were  once  scholars  in  the  Mission.  The  rules  adopted 
by  these  Trustees  are  quite  rigid;  in  particular,  I  venture  to 
suggest  that  the  provision  forbidding  the  sexes  to  recite  to- 
gether, or  meet  in  common  literary  exercises,  is  exceptionally 
.severe,  and  according  to  my  obervation  in  the  Western  States, 
impolitic. 

Incalculable  have  been  the  advantages  of  this  Mission  to  the 
Creeks.  Every  year  it  sends  out  a  graduating  class,  who  scat- 
ter through  the  Nation,  building  up  local  schools,  inciting  a 
spirit  of  improvement,  and  rapidly  elevating  the  intellectual 
tone  of  the  people.  I  cannot  repress  a  feeling  of  sadness  at  the 
thought  that  it  may  soon  cease  to  exist.  For  twenty-three 
years — ever  since  1849,  with  the  exception  of  the  war  period — 
Mr.  Robertson  and  his  devoted  -family  have  labored  for  the 
good  of  these  people.  He  begins  to  see  rich  fruits  on  every 
hand.  His  former  scholars  are  guiding  the  councils  of  the 
Creek  Nation,  teaching  in  her  schools,  and  laboring  at  Wash- 
ington City  to  avert  the  ruin  threatened  by  the  acts  of  a  few 
traitors.  And  should  this  Mission  have  to  appeal  to  its  denom- 
inational friends  in  the  States,  I  ask  for  them  a  favorable  hear- 
ing; and  surely  no  enlightened  Presbyterian  but  must  feel  a 
pride  in  this  fountain  of  light  in  what  so  lately  was  all  dark- 
ness, or  hesitate  to  extend  aid  to  the  work  of  these  brethren 
who  have  made  themselves  voluntary  exiles  "for  Christ's 
sake." 

Supper  was  called  soon  after  our  arrival;  we  took  "visitors' 
chairs,"  and  watched  with  much  interest  the  orderly  incoming 
of  seventy  young  Creeks,  of  every  age  from  eight  to  twenty-two. 
Nearly  all  were  pure  bloods,  and  the  whole  scene  was  a  revela- 
tion to  me.  I  had  seen  the  savage  painted  Indian,  and  the 
miserable  vagabond  on  the  white  frontier;  but  the  civilized, 
scholarly  Indian  boy  and  girl  presented  a  new  sight.  Supper 
over,  a  chapter  was  read  and  the  school  united  in  prayers  and 


382 


LANGUAGES. 


AT    THE  MISSION. 


a  devotional  hymn.  Then  we  were  invited  to  hear  classes, 
who  volunteered  an  evening  recitation  for  our  benefit.  Their 
natural  talent  is  surprising,  particularly  in  drawing  and  figures. 
Every  Creek  boy  seems  to  know  the  law  of  outline  by  instinct. 
As  the  aiFair  assumed  a  rather  social  turn,  the  lads  exhibited 
several  beautiful  specimens  of  their  skfll.  The  class  in  denom- 
inate numbers,  lads  of  fifteen  or  sixteen,  particularly  excelled  in 
rapid  calculation.  At  reading  they  are  not  so  apt.  Few  of 
them  speak  English  on  arrival ;  they  must  be  taught  it.  Thus 
they  have  the  labor  of  acquiring  one  language  before  their  edu- 
cation fairly  begins.  The  Creeks  have  absorbed  many  tribes  in 
their  wars,  and  no  less  than  five  distinct  races  maintain  sepa- 
rate towns  and  languages  at  this  time.  These  are  the  Uchees, 


A   CREEK    SOCIABLE.  383 

Natchees,  Hitchitees,  Alabamas  and  Creeks  proper, — all  repre- 
sented in  this  school.  A  Uchee  or  Alabama  can  no  more 
understand  Creek  than  he  can  English ;  he  learns  that  lan- 
guage here  by  association  with  other  boys,  and  thus  he  must 
acquire  two  tongues  in  the  Mission.  Think  of  an  Ohio  boy 
having  to  learn  two  languages  before  his  education  proper  be- 
gins. When  the  institution  first  started,  this  difficulty  was  much 
greater;  now  all  the  older  scholars  speaking  English  or  Creek 
indifferently,  the  beginners  pick  it  up  rapidly.  Like  the  com- 
mon school  system  of  our  own  people,  this  school  tends  to 
break  down  tribal  prejudice  and  make  the  people  homogeneous. 
Tw.o  Uchee  boys,  of  the  reading  class,  conversed  awhile  in 
that  language  at  my  request.  It  is  entirely  devoid  of  labials ; 
for  five  minutes  they  touched  the  lips  together  but  once.  It 
also  rarely  requires  the  dentals;  and  thus  to  a  Uchee  it  is 
almost  impossible  to  distinguish  between  b  and  jp,  d  and  t,  or  a 
and  e.  This  inability  produces  most  ludicrous  results  in  spell- 
ing. Pronouncing  the  words  to  be  spelled  orally,  the  teacher 
cannot  possibly  determine  in  the  quick  sound  whether  the  spell- 
ing is  correct  or  not,  that  is,  with  Uchee  beginners.  But  when 
they  come  to  write  it  on  the  slate  bat  becomes  p-e-t,  hat  h-e-d, 
bad  b-e-t,  and  so  on. 

Two  bright  Alabama  boys  were  introduced  who  rejoiced  in 
the  names  of  Tecumseh  Tiger,  and  Commodore  Mclntosh,  and 
gave  us  illustrations  of  their  native  tongue,  though  both  spoke 
English  fluently.  Noting  some  sounds  I  thought  similar  to  the 
Greek,  I  asked  the  boys  to  observe  some  poetry  I  would  recite, 
and  see  if  they  recognized  any  of  the  words,  or  any  sound.  I 
then  repeated  the  first  ten  lines  of  the  Iliad,  and  the  boys 
promptly  pronounced  it  Cherokee!  They  had  heard  the  lan- 
guage often,  they  said,  but  did  not  understand  it.  On  being 
told  it  was  Greek,  and  being  unable  to  distinguish  between  the 
G  and  (7,  they  replied,  "  No  Creek  ;  must  be  Cherokee." 

My  attempt  at  comparative  philology  was  not  a  success.  Mean- 
while many  of  the  girls  had  sent  in  a  request"  to  see  their 
brothers  and  cousins."  They  were  admitted  as  well  as  a  num- 
ber of  boys,  and  we  had  a  regular  Creek  sociable.  Some  of  the 


384  CREEK   SONGS. 

scholars  retain  their  Muscokee  names,  others  adopt  the  English 
ones  of  a  friend  or  teacher,  and  still  others  simply  translate  the 
Muscokee  name  into  English.  Of  the  last  class,  I  was  intro- 
duced to  Thomas  Deer,  Eli  Tiger,  Nancy  Postoak  and  Susan 
Berryhill. 

The  Creeks  are  lively  and  affectionate,  and  yet  their  original 
language  does  not  contain  a  single  term  of  endearment !  What 
a  rascally  poor  language  to  make  love  in.  Many  have  lately 
been  literally  translated  from  the  English.  I  wish  the  reader 
could  hear  the  rendering  of  the  word  "  sweet-heart."  Each  of 
these  words  is  long  in  the  Creek,  and  combine  literally  but 
reversed,  making  it  "  heart-sweet,"  about  eight  syllables  in  all. 
Think  of  murmuring  such  a  jawbreaker  into  a  maiden's  ear  by 
moonlight. 

Mrs.  Robertson  and  her  daughters  speak  the  Creek  fluently, 
and  represent  it  as  difficult  to  learn.  Its  grammatical  structure  is 
perfect. 

Never  did  I  spend  a  more  delightful  Sabbath  than  this  at  the 
Mission.  The  Sunday-school  was  worth  coming  a  thousand 
miles  to  witness.  Seventy  Creeks,  bright  lads  and  really  hand- 
some girls,  mingled  their  clear  voices  in  sacred  songs,  led  by 
Miss  A.  A.  Robertson,  with  a  finely  toned  organ,  alternating 
Creek  and  English  songs.  All  sang  in  the  Creek,  but  not  more 
than  half  in  the  English.  Our  alphabet  has  been  adapted  to  the 
Creek  by  Mr.  Robertson  and  an  interpreter,  and  a  series  of 
books  printed.  On  this  plan  the  Creek  hymn  book  is  composed. 
All  our  familiar  tunes  are  there  set  to  Ceeek  words,  in  a  rather 
free  translation  of  the  original.  My  musical  talent  is  small,  but 
I  felt  all  the  enthusiasm  of  the  occasion  when  the  whole  school 
(seventy  sweet  voices  mingled)  took  up  the  air:  "Shall  we  gather 
at  the  river,  where  bright  angels'  feet  have  trod."  The  words  in 
Creek  look  anything  but  beautiful.  Here  they  are,  first  verse: 

BEAUTIFUL  BIVEB. 

Uerakkon  teheceyvr  haks 
Cesvs  em  estolke  fullan 
Cesvs  liket  a  fihnet  os 
Hoyayvket  fihnet  os. 


KO-COK-NE    EM-BOPE. 


385 


CHORUS — Moraos  mon  teheceyvres 

Uerakko  herusen  escherusen 
Mekusapvlken  etohkv  liket 
Fulleye  munkv  tares. 

Cis  pronounced  as  ch  in  child,  eas  i  in  pin,  v  as  short  u;  y 
between  two  vowels  unites  with  the  preceding  one  to  form  a 
diphthong,  and  with  the  latter  is  pronounced  as  y  ;  a  is  pronounced 
ah  as  in  father,  and  all  other  letters  as  in  English. 

Our   interest  pleased 

1  ,      -,  Mllil.'-Ni'l.!':,  )•    i«f    !!  ',      (;• 

the  young  Mnscokees 
so  much  that  they  be- 
stowed honorary  Creek 
names  on  both  of  us. 
Mr.  De  Bruler,  at  their 
request,  gave  specimens 
of  short-hand  writing, 
using  those  words  in  ex- 
planation; for  this  he 
was  named  Ko-cok-ne 
Ein-bo-pe,\iter'd\\y  trans- 
lated, "Shorthandle." 

The  recitations  would 
average  well  in  a  white 
school,  but  the  effect  of 
the  singing,  above  all 
the  novelty  of  the  situa- 
tion, left  me  with  little 
of  the  critical  spirit. 
And  one  hundred  years  "  SHORTHANDLE." 

ago    the    ancestors     of 

these  children  were  offering  fruits  to  the  sun,  and  stroking  their 
faces  to  the  moon,  propitiating  the  spirit  of  evil  with  bloody 
sacrifices,  dressing  in  skins,,  scalping  their  enemies,  and  waging 
merciless  war  from  the  borders  of  the  Tennessee  to  the  banks 
of  Bayou  Sara.  Can  the  Indian  be  civilized?  In  view  of 
the  rapid  progress  of  the  Creek  Nation  since  the  miserable 
policy  of  cheating  was  abandoned  and  the  Christian  policy 
25 


386  DISTINGUISHED    CREEKS. 

adopted,  may  not  the  humanitarians  vary  the  question,  and 
with  confidence  ask:  Can  not  the  Indian  be  civilized,  and  Chris- 
tianized too? 

After  two  delightful  days  at  the  Mission,  we  continued  our 
wanderings  in  the  Creek  country  with  an  improved  opinion  of 
the  people.  When  we  learned  of  the  Indians  from  white  men 
and  freed  men,  or  at  the  railroad  towns  we  were  discouraged  ; 
when  we  visited  them  at  their  homes,  we  thought  their  condi- 
tion more  hopeful. 

We  have  met  but  two  of  their  leading  men  :  Chicota,  their 
principal  chief,  and  John  M.  Moore,  of  the  late  delegation  to 
Washington, 

The  Creek  country  is  in  the  form  of  an  irregular  triangle, 
making  a  long  point  eastward,  and  lying  between  the  Arkansas 
and  Main  Canadian  rivers,  and  extends  westward  nearly  to 
longitude  97°.  From  east  to  west  its  greatest  length  is  one 
hundred  miles,  and  its  western  border,  which  is  the  only  boun- 
dary forming  a  right  line,  measures  about  the  same.  Taking 
into  account  the  winding  of  the  rivers  I  estimate  its  area  at  six 
thousand  square  miles ;  the  authorities  at  3,700,000  acres.  Of 
this  area  about  one-third  is  barren,  or  comparatively  so,  consist- 
ing of  spurs  from  the  west  mountains  and  sand  ridges.  The 
remainder  is  for  the  most  part  exceedingly  well  watered  and 
fertile.  The  population  consists  of  ten  thousand  Creeks  and 
four  thousand  freedmen,  a  proportion  slightly  over  two  to  the 
square  mile,  making  this  by  far  the  most  populous  of  any  part 
of  the  Indian  Territory.  It  is  considerably  more  than  twice  as 
thickly  settled  as  the  Choctaw  country,  and  nearly  three  times 
that  of  the  Cherokee ;  but  the  long  western  strip  of  the  latter 
greatly  reduces  its  average.  On  this  soil  we  see  every  kind  of 
vegetable  in  rapid  growth,  and  increasing  quantities  of  stock, 
thriving  on  the  natural  productions  of  the  earth ;  while  almost 
every  Creek  dwelling  is  the  center  of  a  beautiful  grove  of  fruit 
trees,  at  this  delightful  season  green  with  springing  leaves  or 
white  and  red  with  peach  and  apple  blossoms,  and  redolent  with 
the  sweet  scents  of  advancing  spring.  But  when  winter  destroys 
this  natural  beauty,  I  suspect  the  scene  is  dreary,  for  little  has 


AN   INDIAN   REPUBLIC.  387 

yet  been  done  in  the  shrubbery  line,  and  neat  as  most  of  the 
log-houses  are,  they  would  look  bare  and  mean  alone. 

The  government  of  the  Creek  Nation  is  republican  in  form, 
but  with  our  notions  we  should  call  it  an  elective  monarchy. 
For  though  nominally  any  one  may  be  elected  to  the  highest 
office,  yet  really  they  seem  to  be  confined  to  a  few  families.  The 
entire  "Constitution  and  laws"  are  printed  in  a  small  pamphlet, 
which  would  make  about  ten  pages  of  this  volume.  The  Crimi- 
rial  Code,  definitions  and  all,  consists  of  seven  sections  of  from 
three  to  five  lines  each,  covering  two-thirds  of  one  page. 

The  law-making  power  is  vested  in  a  House  of  Kings  and 
a  House  of  Warriors:  the  members  of  each  are  elected  for 
four  years,  by  general  vote  of  all  the  male  Creeks  over  eighteen 
years  of  age.  Each  of  the  forty  towns  sends  one  member  to  the 
House  of  Kings;  each  town  one  to  the  House  of  Warriors,  and 
an  additional  member  for  each  two  hundred  citizens.  The 
Kings  elect  their  own  President,  the  Warriors  their  own 
Speaker-in-Council ;  each  house  elects  its  own  interpreter,  and 
all  speeches  made  in  English  are  forthwith  rendered  aloud  into 
Creek,  and  vice  versa.  The  records  are  kept  in  English. 

The  Executive  of  the  Nation  is  styled  the  Principal  Chief,  his 
Vice  the  Second  Chief;  they  also  are  elected  for  four  years  each, 
and  thus  the  entire  Government  is  liable  to  a  complete  change  at 
each  election.  The  judiciary  begins  with  the  High  Court,  which 
consists  of  five  persons,  chosen  by  the  Council,  for  four  years. 
They  have  original  jurisdiction  in  all  cases  involving  over  one 
hundred  dollars,  and  appellate  jurisdiction  from  lower  courts  in 
criminal  matters.  The  Nation  is  divided  into  six  districts,  in 
each  of  which  a  judge  is  elected  by  the  qualified  voters  ;  they 
have  jurisdiction  of  all  cases  involving  sums  under  one 
hundred  dollars,  and  local  criminal  jurisdiction.  Of  course, 
with  such  a  brief  and  simple  Criminal  Code,  there  is  much  k*ft 
to  the  discretion  of  the  Judge,  and  as  far  as  a  white  man  can  see, 
he  seems  to  have  almost  absolute  power.  The  death  penalty  is 
often  inflicted.  Each  district  elects  a  "  light  horse  company," 
consisting  of  one  lieutenant  and  four  privates;  these  act  as 
sheriff  and  deputies  under  orders  of  the  District  Courts,  and  are 


388  SEVERE   LAWS. 

subject  to  a  general  call  From  the  principal  chief  to  execute  the 
mandates  of  the  High  Court,  or  suppress  extensive  disorders.  In 
hundreds  of  instances  these  light-horse  companies  and  the  Dis- 
trict Judge  simply  make  the  law  as  they  go,  calling  Court  on 
each  particular  case,  following  the  statute  if  there  is  one,  and  if 
not,  assigning  such  penalty  as  in  their  judgment  fits  the  case. 
The  laws  are  singularly  plain  and  unambiguous.  No  space  is 
wasted  in  definitions,  it  being  taken  for  granted,  apparently, 
that  everybody  knows  the  meaning  of  such  terms  as  "  steal "  and 
"  murder." 

Section  4  of  the  Criminal  Code  reads :  "  Be  it  enacted,  That 
should  any  person  or  persons  be  guilty  of  rape,  he  shall  for  the 
first  offence  receive  fifty  lashes  ;  for  the  second  offence  he  shall 
suffer  death."  This  crime  is  now  very  rare,  or,  the  Creeks  tell 
me,  entirely  unknown.  I  should  say  it  was  entirely  unneces- 
sary. The  Creek  women  are  of  good  average  repute  for  chastity, 
but  the  freedwomen  are  quite  the  reverse,  and  with  them  asso- 
ciate a  few  of  the  baser  sort  of  Creek  girls.  Section  5  reads: 
"  Be  it  enacted,  That  should  any  person  or  persons  be  guilty  of 
stealing,  for  the  first  offence  lie  shall  receive  fifty  lashes;  for  the 
second  offence  one  hundred  lashes,  and  for  the  third  offence  he 
shall  suffer  death/'  This  penalty  is  by  shooting,  irrespective 
of  the  amount  stolen,  and  is  often  inflicted.  Women  who 
attempt  or  assist  at  infanticide  or  abortion,  receive  publicly  fifty 
lashes  on  the  bare  back.  This  crime,  formerly  common,  is  now 
almost  or  quite  unknown.  A  healthy  pride  of  increase  and 
nationality  has  taken  root  in  the  Nation,  and  before  the  war 
the  Creeks  were  increasing  about  as  fast  as  white  communities 
of  the  same  size.  Their  progress  from  1850  to  1861  was  un- 
precedented. All  their  rude  shanties  or  wigwams  disappeared 
and  were  replaced  by  neat  and  comfortable  frame  and  log 
houses ;  their  old  wooden  plows  were  discarded,  and  most  of 
them  became  good  farmers.  They  were  rich  in  fruit  and  hogs. 
The  war  came  and  ruined  them.  Only  within  the  past  four 
years  have  they  again  been  sensibly  improving.  The  Nation 
now  has  thirty-one  common  schools,  mostly  taught  by  native 
teachers,  and  three  High  Schools  or  Missions.  These  last  are 


INDIAN    DOCTORING. 


389 


managed  respectively  by  the  Baptist,  Presbyterian,  and  Metho- 
dist Church  South.  .Something  over  a  thousand  Creeks  belong 
to  these  three  churches,  and  the  majority  of  the  Nation  attend 
church  more  or  less.  But  the  natural  tendency  of  their  minds 
is  towards  a  kind  of  fatalism.  Such  and  such  things  are  des- 
tined for  each  individual,  but  may  sometimes  be  averted  by 
certain  rites  or  duties  performed.  They  use  white  men's  medi- 
cines for  all  ills  except  the  bites  of  poisonous  reptiles  and 
insects.  For  these  they  rely  entirely  on  Indian  conjurors,  who 
never  fail  to  effect  a 
cure.  This  is  a  singu- 
lar statement,  but  the 
testimony  is  uniform; 
there  is  not  a  dissenting 
statement  from  white, 
black  or  red.  The 
country  abounds  in  rat-  ~"^S': 
tlesnakes  ;  many  men  of 
undoubted  intelligence 
and  without  supersti- 
tion,  have  been  bitten; 
some  have  shown  me 
the  marks,  and  de- 
scribed the  cure.  When 
I  ask  how  they  explain, 
this,  the  answer  gener- 
ally is:  "I  don't  explain 
it;  I  don't  believe  in 
conjuration;  I  only 
know  the  cure  is  cer- 
tain." The  conjuror 

uses  no  medicine  but  a  small  leaf  of  tobacco  or  other  plant, 
which  he  holds  upon  his  tongue  while  pronouncing  the  charm. 
He  applies  it  then  to  the  bite,  pressing  it  smartly  with  the  ball 
of  his  thumb,  and  in  less  than  twenty-four  hours  the  patient  is 
entirely  well.  Such  is  the  experience  detailed  to  me  by  three 
nearly  white  and  very  intelligent  men. 


CURING  SNAKE-BITE. 


390  "STUPID  SANDS." 

Simple  as  is  the  form  of  government,  the  Nation  did  not 
succeed  in  establishing  it  without  a  rebellion  and  period  of 
reconstruction.  I  have  spoken  of  the  old  and  main  division  of 
the  Nation  into  Upper  and  Lower  Greeks.  Under  the  old 
aboriginal  system  each  of  these  was  entitled  to  a  chief  and 
minor  officers  ;  there  were  civil  chiefs  and  war  chiefs,  and  a  vast 
multitude  of  offices,  three  or  four  times  as  many  as  at  present. 
This  continued  with  various  modifications  until  1867,  when  the 
Constitution  was  adopted.  Two-thirds  of  the  old  dignitaries 
had  to  go  out  of  office,  and  those  who  failed  of  election  under 
the  new  system  were  properly  disgusted.  Among  them  was  an 
arch-plotter,  named  Ok-ta-ha-sars-ha-go,  literally  translated 
"Stupid  Sands."  He  raised  a  company  of  several  hundred, 
appeared  at  the  Council  Ground  on  Inauguration  Day,  and 
declared  in  favor  of  the  old  system,  announcing  his  intention  to 
break  up  the  new  Council  by  force.  The  Chief  elect,  Chicota, 
sent  away  the  women  and  children,  put  the  town  in  a  state  of 
defence,  and  called  out  his  supporters,  who  soon  considerably 
outnumbered  the  others.  Sands  then  appealed  to  the  freed  men 
on  questions  of  loyalty,  but  they  failed  to  respond.  His  party 
dwindled  away  without  a  fight,  and  Major  Lyon,  Creek  Agent, 
succeeded  in  reconciling  most  to  the  new  Government.  Sands 
then  began  to  intrigue  at  Washington,  and  appealed  to  the 
people  at  home,  but  was  overwhelmingly  defeated  in  1871, 
Chicota  being  re-elected.  Sands  died  while  we  were  in  the 
Nation,  his  death  being  hastened,  the  people  said,  by  disap- 
pointment. 

Just  west  of  the  Creeks  lie  the  Seminoles,  who  are  at  this 
time  in  great  distress,  for  the  following  reasons  :  The  main  body 
"  were  induced  to  leave  Florida,"  and  settle  here,  soon  after  the 
Creeks  came.  The  latter  acknowledged  the  old  kinship,  and  a 
t'lose  friendship  was  established.  By  treaty  of  1866  the  Creeks 
ceded  all  the  western  part  of  their  country  to  the  United  States, 
"  upon  which  to  locate  other  Indians."  The  Seminoles  at  once 
Bold  all  their  first  reservation  to  the  United  States,  at  fifteen 
cents  an  acre,  and  bought  two  hundred  thousand  acres  of  these 
" ceded  lands,"  next  to  the  Creek  line,  at  fifty  cents  an  acre. 


SEMIKOLE   TROUBLES. 


391 


OK-TA-HA-SARS-HA-GO. 

This  money,  by  the  way,  goes  into  the  Creek  trust  funds.  The 
Surveyor  came  to  run  the  line,  and  being  threatened  by  a  band 
of  Kioways,  merely  took  the  word  of  an  old  trader  for  it,  and 
set  up  posts  at  the  termini  by  guess.  The  Seminoles  settled 
there  and  have  improved  industriously  for  six  years.  Lately 
the  Interior  Department  has  had  the  line  correctly  located,  and 
it  shows  the  entire  Seminole  tract  to  be  within  the  country  of 
the  Creeks.  They  are  utterly  without  land  or  homes,  and  their 
labor  for  six  years  goes  to  the  Creeks.  They  wanted  to  be  near 
the  Creeks — their  language  is  the  same — but  maintain  their 
nationality.  So  they  ask  the  Government  to  give  them  other 
lands  to  an  equal  amount,  just  outside  the  Creeks. 

A  small  band  of  the  latter  are  still  in  Alabama  and  Florida, 


392  PROGRESS    AND    HOPE. 

and  the  Nation  is  moving  to  bring  them  out.  The  people  of 
the  Alabama,  Cowassartee,  and  Boluxshee  towns  (of  the  Creek 
Nation)  tell  us  that  they  have  a  large  number  of  relatives  and 
friends  now  wandering  in  Southern  Texas.  These  are  the  last 
of  a  detachment  who  were  part  of  the  "  Old  Nation  "  east  of  the 
Mississippi.  They  left  there  between  1807  and  1812,  when  the 
Nation  first  came  into  contact  with  the  whites,  and  moving  by 
successive  stages  westward,  settled  between  the  Sabine  and 
Naches  Rivers,  then  a  part  of  Mexico.  In  1839  they  were 
forcibly  expelled  from  there  by  the  new  Republic  of  Texas, 
They  started  hither;  a  few  reached  this  Nation,  more  settled 
among  the  Choctaws,  and  about  five  hundred,  totally  destitute 
of  horses  and  provisions,  were  obliged  to  remain  in  Texas. 
Since  then  they  have  been  outcasts  and  vagabonds,  driven  to 
and  fro  among  the  whites,  always  longing  to  reach  this  section, 
but  never  able  to  come.  The  Creeks  have  kept  up  regular 
communication  with  them  for  years,  and  now  propose  to  petition 
Congress  to  bring  them  here.  The  main  body  has  now  been 
here  thirty-five  years,  in  which  time  they  have  totally  aban- 
doned idolatry,  become  good  stock  raisers  and  tolerably  good 
farmers;  half  educated  one  generation,  and  made  arrangements 
to  fully  educate  the  next,  become  eminently  peaceable  and  a 
little  more  than  self-sustaining.  Can  we  not  afford  to  leave 
this  section  to  them  one  generation  longer — at  least  until  we 
have  settled  and  improved  all  the  waste  places  of  the  two  States 
and  the  Territory  north  of  it? 

At  noon  of  a  bright  April  day  we  return  to  the  railroad  at 
Muscogee,  to  find  matters  worse  than  ever.  As  we  sit  down  to 
dinner  in  the  boarding-car,  a  half-blood  Creek,  crazy  with 
smuggled  whisky,  is  galloping  up  and  down  the  row,  brand- 
ishing a  huge  revolver,  and  threatening  death  to  all  opponents. 
At  one  moment  he  rides  his  horse  into  a  shop,  emerges  the  next, 
and  gallops  upon  a  group  of  wenches,  who  scatter  with  a  chorus 
of  screams.  A  file  of  soldiers  from  a  detachment  on  the  road 
appear  on  the  scene,  arrest  and  disarm  him,  and  the  town 
returns  to  its  normal  condition  of  listlessness  and  idle  chatter. 
Severe  penalties  are  prescribed  against  selling  whisky  in  the 


SMUGGLING    WHISKY.  393 

Territory,  and  that  which  is  smuggled  in  is  the  vilest  compound 
known  to  the  trade,  familiarly  called  "  tarantula  juice/'  from 
the  most  deadly  insect  in  the  country.  A  few  traders  make 
this  smuggling  a  regular  business,  the  partner  in  Kansas  ship- 
ping whisky  to  the  partner  here  in  cases  marked  "  eggs," 
"  tobacco,"  etc.  An  old  acquaintance  of  mine  in  Chetopa  told 
me,  merely  as  a  matter  of  news,  that  he  followed  the  business  a 
year  before  being  detected.  He  was  then  arrested  and  taken  to 
Fort  Smith,  Arkansas,  Federal  Court  headquarters  for  this 
country ;  he  brought  his  case  to  trial  at  once,  "  before  the  evi- 
dence could  accumulate,"  and  got  off  with  a  loss  of  four  hun- 
dred dollars  fine  and  costs.  He  returned  at  once  to  Chetopa 
and  engaged  again  in  the  business,  without  the  loss  of  a  week's 
time.  Being  better  posted  and  more  wary,  he  run  the  business 
six  months  longer  without  being  suspected,  and  retired  respect- 
ably, with  large  profits. 

A  small  company  of  soldiers  is  stationed  here,  under  com- 
mand of  a  Lieutenant,  and  others  at  various  points  in  the  Ter- 
ritory; and  all  of  them  look  even  more  listless  and  uninterest- 
ing than  soldiers  generally  on  the  plains,  which  is  saying  quite 
enough.  Officers  are  abundant  enough  all  over  the  Territory, 
but  I  have  met  no  one  who  could  give  me  any  clear  informa- 
tion about  the  condition  of  civil  government.  Says  an  old 
Southern  physician,  who  has  lived  here  ten  years :  "The  fact 
is,  there  is  no  government  actually,  but  lots  of  trials.  If  both 
parties  are  Indians — that  is,  have  *  head  rights'  in  the  Nation — 
it's  tried  by  Indians  under  their  laws;  if  cither's  a  white  man, 
it's  tried  at  Fort  Smith,  and  that's  just  no  trial.  There  is  no 
collision  of  governments,  for  the  Federal  authorities  don't  care 
a  d — n  about  the  country.  My  protection  and  government  is 
in  these  stone  walls,  a  shot-gun  and  six-shooter.  If  these 
Creeks  was  not  just  the  most  quiet,  peaceable  people  on  earth,  a 
decent  man  couldn't  live  here.  These  infernal  white  scalawags 
would  ruin  the  country.  Yes,  sir;  there's  plenty  of  law  and 
lots  o'  trials,  but  no  government." 

Here,  as  about  Vinita,  we  hear  much  of  the  proposed  Terri- 
tory and  reform  of  the  land  tenure.  This  last,  it  is  evident, 


394 


WHITE   INHABITANTS. 


ought  to  be  changed ;  for  thousands  of  white  men,  who  would 
strictly  respect  the  right  of  property  in  an  individual  Indian, 
cannot  but  feel  a  longing  to  "take  up"  some  of  that  held  by 
the  Indians  in  common.  The  Cherokees,  for  instance,  own  in 
common  six  million  acres,  more  than  one-fourth  the  area  of 
Indiana,  while  there  are  but  sixteen  thousand  of  them.  Any 
citizen  of  the  Nation  can  fence  as  much  land  as  he  wishes, 

and  it  is  then  his,  to 
all  practical  intents, 
while  he  occupies  it, 
and  he  can  quit-claim 
or  sell  his  improve- 
ments. But  he  has  no 
fee  simple,  and,  if  aban- 
doned, the  soil  falls 
back  to  the  common- 
alty again.  But  the 
Cherokees  have  a  law 
that  no  man  can  fence 
within  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  of  another's  fence; 
there  must  be  that  much 
common  of  pasturage  be- 
tween them.  The  Creeks 
allow  inclosures  without 
this  common  strip,  thus 
causing  the  entire  coun- 
try to  be  shut  up  in  some 
few  places.  White  men 

can  only  reside  in  the  "Nation"  by  marriage  and  adoption,  by 
a  "permit"  to  trade,  or  as  employes.  This  last  privilege  is 
shamefully  abused.  Men  go  once  a  year  to  some  Indian,  make 
a  contract  to  work  a  year  for  him,  take  out  papers  to  that  effect, 
and  roam  the  country  till  that  time  the  next  year.  The  Chero- 
kees require  an  indorsement  of  the  candidate  by  seven  citizens, 
and  a  certificate  of  character  from  his  last  residence,  before 
adopting  him  as  a  citizen.  "Permits"  to  trade,  from  the  Fede- 


A  PERMIT. 


395 

ral  authorities,  are  subject  to  the  usual  influences  of  chicane 
and  favoritism  ;  and  from  all  these  causes  it  results  that  very 
many,  if  not  a  majority,  of  the  whites  resident  in  the  Ter- 
ritory are  poor,  drifting  scalawags,  or  down-right  villains. 
These  vagrant  whites  render  the  country  generally  unsafe,  and 
still  worse,  demoralize  the  negroes  and  the  Indians. 


PRE-EMPTOR'S  CABIN. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

OKLAHOMA. 

Railroads— The  Thirty-fifth*  Parallel  Route— Down  to  the  Canadian— In  the 
Choctaw  Nation— Tandy  Walker,  Esq.— Secretary  Delano  visits  the  Territory- 
Tramp  to  Fort  Gibson— "  White  Cherokees  "  again— An  Indian  feud— At 
Widow  Skrimshee's — "  Pikes,"  on  the  animal  migration — Tahlequah — Chero- 
kee documents — Curious  records — History  of  the  Nation — Summary  of  th« 
Indian  Territory. 

WO  railroads  traverse  the  Indian  Territory:  the  Missouri, 
Kansas  and  Texas,  from  north  to  south,  averaging 
forty  miles  from  the  eastern  border;  and  the  Atlantic 
and  Pacific,  from  east  to  west,  about  as  fur  from  the 
northern  border.  The  A.  and  P.  still  languishes, 
being  completed  no  farther  than  Vinita;  but  is  a  road  of  con- 
siderable pretensions.  Its  nominal  terminus  is  on  the  Pacific 
Coast.  The  "thirty-fifth  parallel"  road  and  the  entire  line  has 
been  surveyed  through  the  Indian  Territory  and  New  Mexico, 
and  now  its  agents  speak  of  San  Diego,  California,  as  the  real 
terminus.  We  are  assured  "  there  is  no  snow  on  the  line  at 
any  season  of  the  year,"  meaning,  I  suppose,  none  to  do  any 
hurt,  which  I  am  quite  prepared  to  believe.  But  I  am  not 
yet  prepared  to  judge  between  it  and  the  better  known  (at  present 
better  supported)  El  Paso  route. 

The  M.  K.  and  T.  runs  from  Sedalia,  Missouri;'  to  Fort 
Scott,  Kansas;  thence,  south  west  ward  to  Parsons,  wherg'it  joins 
the  other  branch  running  southeast  from  Emporia.  The  two 
form  a  complete  Y  at  Parsons;  the  lower  stem  continues  nearly 
straight  south  through  the  Indian  Territory,  and  is  being 
extended  to  connect  with  the  Texas  Central,  and  so  form  a  con- 
tinuous line  to  the  Gulf. 

We   were  off*  from   Muscoee  at  7  o'clock  A.  M.  to  see  the 


CANADIAN    RIVER.  397 

remaining  forty  miles  of  road  completed,  then  a  little  south  of 
the  main  Canadian.  The  country  traversed  is  Creek,  of  the 
same  general  character  as  that  heretofore  described — the  low 
lands  very  rich,  and  the  higher  knolls  and  ridges  too  light  and 
sandy,  "quick  "  for  pasturage  and  producing  an  early  growth  of 
grass,  but  too  thin  for  cultivation.  We  cross  Little  Canadian  or 
North  Fork,  within  a  mile  of  the  Methodist  Mission,  which  is 
reported  in  a  flourishing  condition,  but  we  lacked  time  to  visit 
it.  Two  miles  down  the  river  is  situated  North  Fork  town,  an 
important  Creek  village.  We  hear  that  a  white  man  has  just 
been  mortally  wounded  in  an  affray  there,  all  the  parties  being 
railroad  followers.  Between  the  two  Canadians  the  piece  of 
road  is  some  seven  miles  long,  and  midway  thereon  was  then 
the  nominal  terminus  and  the  station  for  the  El  Paso  Stage  and 
Mail  Line.  We  pause  here  an  hour.  Dusty  and  travel  worn 
pilgrims  are  coming  in  from  all  points  in  Western  Texas,  and 
spruce,  clean  looking  people  from  civilization,  starting  out  on 
long  and  toilsome  journeys  through  the  sandy  plains  between 
here  and  the  Rio  Grande.  Thence  to  Main  Canadian  we 
traverse  a  dense  forest;  all  the  point  between  the  two  rivers  is 
heavily  timbered,  and  choked  with  underbrush.  The  main 
stream  is  now  wide  and  rapid,  apparently  thick  with  red  mud 
and  sand;  but  after  standing  a  few  minutes,  it  is  sweet  enough  to 
the  taste,  and  close  examination  shows  the  stream  to  be  tolerably 
clear,  the  red  showing  through  the  water  from  the  bottom.  The 
bridge  here  was  finished  several  months  before,  and  about  the 
time  the  track  was  laid  the  southern  abutment  gave  way.  It 
was  found  that  the  stone  used,  from  a  neighboring  quarry,  was 
entirely  unfit,  falling  to  pieces  in  the  water;  and  the  entire 
pier  had  to  be  rebuilt.  We  went  over  on  the  first  locomotive 
which  erased  ;  hitherto  construction  cars  had  been  shoved  across 
singly  by  hand.  After  our  passage  the  engine  brought  over  a  very 
heavy  train  loaded  with  iron,  and  the  bridge  was  then  officially 
pronounced  safe. 

We  had  observed,  with  a  slight  uneasiness,  that  Brad.  Collins 
and  his  party  came  down  on  our  train,  and  it  was  generally 


398 


TANDY    WALKER. 


LIVELY  TIMES  ON  THE  CANADIAN. 

known  that  they  had  a  cargo  of  smuggled  whisky  in  the  bag- 
gage-car. At  the  town  on  the  river  they  met  a  dozen  more  of 
their  sort ;  the  whisky  was  opened  and  passed,  and  when  we 
returned  from  viewing  the  bridge  three  of  them  wrere  galloping 
about  town,  brandishing  pistols,  and  yelling  like  demons.  My 
companion  took  a  brief  look,  and  suggested,  "This  is  a  devilish 
queer  place :  let's  get  out  of  it."  This  suited  my  humor  ad- 
mirably ;  so  we  crossed  into  the  Choctaw  country,  and  spent  the 
day.  Two  miles  through  the  heavy  forest  brought  us  to  a 
beautiful  farm,  tilled  and  improved  as  well  as  the  average  in 
Ohio,  which  we  found  to  be  the  residence  of  Tandy  Walker, 
Esq.,  Choctaw,  and  nephew  of  ex-Governor  Walker,  of  that 
Nation.  Mr.  Walker  occupies  a  rather  pretentious  "double 


CHOCTAW    NATION.  399 

log-house,"  built  in  the  Southern  style,  with  open  porch  or 
passage  between.  Here  we  took  dinner,  and  found  him  a 
gentleman  of  unusual  intelligence  and  enterprise.  He  tells  us 
he  is  the  only  Choctaw  in  the  district  who  is  in  favor  of  section- 
izing  and  admitting  white  immigration ;  and  there  are  not  prob- 
ably a  hundred  in  the  Nation  who  favor  it.  He  was  once  a 
leading  man,  but  is  now  almost  ostracized  for  his  vote  and 
opinions.  He  has  five  white  men  in  his  employ;  and,  like  the 
Logan  who  "had  none  to  mourn/'  he  is  "pointed  at  as  the 
friend  of  the  whites."  By  the  laws  of  these  Nations,  white 
men  can  reside  here  by  being  employed  by  a  legal  citizen,  in 
which  case  the  citizen  is  responsible  for  their  misdemeanors;  or 
he  can  pay  a  license  and  take  out  a  "permit"  for  his  white 
employe's,  and  the  Nation  takes  the  responsibility.  The  Choc- 
taws  and  Chickasaws,  though  marked  on  the  map  in  separate 
divisions,  are  now  united.  They  have  one  agent  and  one  gov- 
ernment, and  the  citizens  have  equal  rights  in  the  whole  country, 
which  is  known  officially  as  the  Choctaw  Nation. 

This  Nation  is  bounded  on  the  south  by  Red  River,  and  on 
the  north  by  the  Main  Canadian  and  Arkansas,  both  running 
nearly  eastward.  Its  east  and  west  boundaries  are  right  lines, 
being  the  border  of  Arkansas  and  longitude  98°.  Thus  its 
length  is  exactly  two  hundred  miles,  and  its  width  from  north 
to  south  will  average  a  little  more  than  half  as  much,  being 
varied  by  the  windings  of  the  rivers,  giving  a  total  area  of 
nearly  twenty-one  thousand  square  miles,  or  two-thirds  the  size 
of  Indiana.  All  the  southern  third  of  this  area  is  of  great 
average  fertility,  as  reported  by  all  visitors,  consisting  of  the 
rich  valley  of  Red  River  and  its  many  tributaries.  In  the 
center,  particularly  toward  the  west,  are  many  mountain  spurs 
and  sand  ridges ;  while  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  the 
Canadian  and  Arkansas  is  very  fertile,  but  yields  soon  to  high, 
rolling  prairie,  valuable  only  for  pasturage.  This  country, 
equal  to  two  or  three  New  England  States,  and  of  greater 
average  fertility,  has  a  population  of  22,000;  fertile  land  equal 
to  one-third  of  Indiana,  with  the  population  of  an  average 
county.  Of  its  people,  16,000  are  Choctaws  and  6000  Chick- 


400 


CHOCTAW    JUSTICE. 


AT  TANDY  WALKER'S. 

asaws.  Both  are  stated  to  be  increasing  in  numbers  as  fast  as 
would  a  white  community  without  immigration.  The  white 
men  we  meet  here  maintain  that  the  Choctaws  are  much  more 
advanced  in  civilization  than  the  Creeks,  and  what  I  saw  con- 
firms it.  They  enforce  their  laws  much  better,  particularly  in 
cases  where  whites  or  half-breeds  are  concerned.  With  their 
sporadic  population,  timber  increases  yearly,  game  is  abundant 
and  cheap,  common  pasturage  is  plenty,  and  cattle  are  grown  at 
a  cost  of  from  three  to  eight  dollars  per  head. 

The  Choctaws  were  immensely  wealthy  before  the  war. 
Single  herders  numbered  their  cattle  by  thousands.  The  aver- 
age wealth  was  twice  as  great  as  that  of  any  purely  agricultural 
community  in  Indiana,  and  golden  ornaments  of  every  sort 


SECRETARY   OF   THE   INTERIOR.  401 

were  profusely  displayed  on  horses,  carriages,  and  the  Indians' 
persons.  The  amount  of  fine  clothes  and  jewelry  sold  by 
traders  here  at  that  time  seems  incredible.  The  war  swept 
them  clean ;  literally  broke  up  and  ruined  them,  leaving  abso- 
lutely nothing  but  the  land.  Before  the  war  Mr.  Walker  was 
accounted  a  millionaire.  He  began  again,  in  1865,  with  fifty 
dollars  and  one  saddle-mule.  He  was  ahead  of  his  neighbors 
only  in  this :  his  fifty  dollars  were  in  greenbacks,  theirs  were 
in  Confederate  notes.  Those  who  "went  south"  were  even 
worse  ruined  than  those  who  "  took  the  Federal  side."  Some, 
it  is  said,  died  of  grief  and  despair,  on  returning  home  in  1865. 
But  most  went  resolutely  to  work,  and  are  once  more  prosper- 
ing. But  many  years  will  be  required  for  those  vast  herds  of 
cattle  to  be  renewed.  This  neighborhood  has  every  sign  of  a 
prosperous  community  of  civilized  farmers.  On  the:  whole,  I 
rather  like  the  Choctaws. 

While  we  were  "  locating  tracks "  through  the  Choctaw 
Nation,  the  Secretary  of  the  Interior  and  his  party  came  to 
inspect  the  railroad,  remaining  one  night  at  the  Canadian. 
Being  in  the  interior,  we  failed  to  see  them ;  but  on  our  return 
found  the  community  jolly  over  the  party's  rich  experience. 

The  day  they  reached  the  end  of  the  M.  K.  and  T.  track,  a 
man  was  seized  at  4  P.  M.,  near  the  cars,  by  four  robbers,  and 
relieved  of  eighty  dollars  in  gold,  and  that  night  one  was  shot 
dead  within  a  hundred  yards  of  their  sleeping  car.  Mr.  Wood- 
ard,  Superintendent  of  the  road,  accompanied  the  party,  and 
was  rather  lively  in  his  jokes  upon  the  employes  for  complain- 
ing of  these  ruffians  and  asserting  there  was  danger  on  the  road. 
That  night  one  of  the  party  was  taken  sick,  and  Mr.  W.  started 
out  to  look  for  a  doctor.*  By  mistake  he  poked  his  head  into 
the  tent  of  a  gambler,  named  Callahan,  who  happened  to  be  a 
little  out  of  humor.  He  thrust  a  six-shooter  into  Mr.  Wood- 
ard's  face,  and  exclaimed  rather  pointedly  :  "  Air  ye  lookin'  for 
rne?  I'm  ready  if  y'are."  Of  course  such  intention  was 
promptly  disclaimed,  and  the  Superintendent  made  good  time 
off  the  ground. 

The  Secretary  was  considerably  stirred  up,  and  issued  some 
26 


402  A    REBELLIOUS   TEXAN. 

stringent  order  against  "  intruders  in  the  Indian  country."  A 
lieutenant  was  sent  to  the  terminus  with  a  squad  of  cavalry 
under  orders  to  notify  the  "intruders,"  and  shoot  all  who  re- 
fused to  leave  within  twenty-four  hours.  All  the  railroac 
business  had  been  moved  from  Muscogee  to  Canadian  River 
and  all  the  roughs  who  were  able  had  followed. 

On  the  afternoon  of  a  rather  sultry  day  my  companion  and  ] 
left  the  abandoned  town  and  struck  out  afoot  northeastward  foi 
Fort  Gibson.  Three  miles  out  brought  us  to  the  old  Texar 
road,  original  wagon  road  and  cattle  trail  from  Western  Texaf 
to  Kansas  City  and  Leavenworth.  Here  we  were  overtaken 
by  a  grizzly,  weatherbeaten  old  Texan,  with  a  light  load  foi 
Baxter  Springs,  Kansas,  who  politely  asked  us  to  ride.  As  w< 
dropped  valises  in  the  wagon,  he  asked,  with  what  soundec 
like  an  eager  tone: 

"Got  any  whisky  in  them?" 

"  No,"  was  the  answer,  with  expressed  regrets. 

"  Ef  ye  had,  ye'd  walk,  you  bet ;  wouldn't  have  you  get  in 
here  with  one  pint  of  whisky  for  five  hundred  dollars ! " 

This  radical  temperance  platform  in  this  latitude  excited  oui 
astonishment,  and  we  called  for  an  explanation.  He  gave  ii 
thus :  "A  burnt  child  dreads  the  fire.  One  pint,  yes,  one  dram 
o'  whisky  'd  cost  me  this  hull  load.  These  Deputy  Marshals— 
d — n  the  thievin'  rascals,  I  say — they'll  search  y'r  wagon  an} 
minnit,  and  if  they  find  one  drop,  away  goes  the  hull  load  tc 
Fort  Smith,  and  cl — n  the  haight  of  it  d'y  ever  see  again.  One 
trip  a  nice  lookin'  chap  enough  asked  me  to  ride.  He  got  in, 
and  pretty  soon  pulled  a  flask.  '  Drink,'  says  he.  'After  you,3 
says  I.  Well,  in  less  'n  ten  minutes  comes  the  marshals  and 
grabbed  us.  If  they  find  a  drop  even  on  a  man  as  is  ridin3 
with  you,  they  take  everything,  and  nary  dollar  do  you  ever 
git.  Why,  that  feller  was  in  with  'em,  of  course.  They  seize 
everything  they  can  git  a  pretence  for,  and  then  divide.  There 
won't  anybody  but  a  scamp  or  a  rough  take  such  an  office  as 
Deputy  Marshal  in  this  country.  They're  all  on  the  make, 
and  in  with  these  roughs.  That's  what  I  say." 

I  would  fain  hope  the  old  man  was  mistaken  in  his  general 


ARKANSAS    FERRY.  403 

estimate  of  Federal  officers  in  this  Territory,  but  there  is  too 
much  evidence  of  this  nature  to  permit  me  to  believe  the  charge 
entirely  false.  That  most  outrageous  frauds  have  been  perpe- 
trated by  these  fellows  I  cannot  doubt ;  I  can  only  say  that  the 
people  generally,  both  white  and  red,  credit  a  few  of  the  mar- 
shals with  honesty  and  official  probity. 

Three  miles  with  our  slightly  rebellious  Texan  friend  brought 
us  to  the  Arkansas  River,  and  to  a  steam  ferry-boat,  which 
caused  in  me  unbounded  astonishment.  I  could  scarcely  have 
believed  there  was  such  a  thing  in  this  country.  But,  indeed, 
this  was  a  very  important  road  before  the  railroad  came,  and 
here,  at  the  mouth  of  Grand  River,  is  the  head  of  navigation  on 
the  Arkansas.  Steamers  run  up  the  Grand  River,  which  has 
back-water  from  the  Arkansas,  three  miles  or  more,  and  land 
at  Fort  Gibson.  By  a  series  of  dams  and  locks,  like  those  on 
Green  River,  Kentucky,  I  am  convinced  the  Arkansas  could 
have  slack-water  navigation  a  hundred  miles  or  more  above 
this.  The  waters  of  Grand  River  and  those  of  the  Arkansas 
show  like  two  broad  bands,  one  misty  blue  and  the  other  dirty 
red  and  yellow,  in  the  main  channel  as  far  as  we  can  see  below 
their  junction.  The  residents  tell  us  the  two  streams,  the  clear 
and  the  muddy,  fun  side  by  side  for  nearly  twenty  miles,  when 
a  series  of  riffles  and  sharp  turns  mingles  them  freely  in  a  fluid 
of  pale  orange  tint. 

We  landed  below  the  mouth  of  Grand  River  and  walked 
some  three  miles  across  a  rich  bottom,  containing  many  nice  and 
well-cultivated  farms,  the  homes  of  Cherokees.  The  ferry 
landing  is  the  joint  property  of  two  "White  Cherokee"  widows, 
who  rent  it  for  forty-five  hundred  dollars  per  year.  Not  a  bad 
thing  for  gentle  savages.  Their  neat  white  frame  cottages,  and 
those  of  their  neighbors,  embowered  in  white  blossoming  fruit 
trees,  and  surrounded  by  handsome  grain  fields,  look  like  any- 
thing but  the  homes  of  a  barbarous  people. 

Arrived  at  Gibson,  we  find  quarters  at  the  inevitable  "double 
log-house"  hotel,  with  open  porch,  veranda  and  multitudinous 
additions,  kept,  and  well  kept,  too,  by  an  old  Pennsylvania 
Dutchman,  with  a  "White  Cherokee"  wife.  Our  host,  Mr. 


404  FORT   GIBSON. 

Kerr,  is  a  noted  man  in  the  Nation,  and  has  been  here  ever 
since  1833.  Before  that  he  was  a  hunter  and  trapper  in  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  and  has  camped  many  a  night  on  the  spot 
where  Salt  Lake  City  now  stands.  He  was  full  of  questions 
about  that  region,  and  called  to  mind  a  dozen  landmarks  I  had 
seen,  where,  in  his  time,  was  an  unsettled  wilderness,  and  where 
he  then  thought  gold  and  silver  would  some  day  be  developed. 
Here  we  rested  till  afternoon  of  the  next  day,  visiting,  in  the 
meantime,  Mr.  Cunningham,  Judge  Vann  and  Hon.  A.  Rattling 
Gourd,  prominent  men  of  the  Cherokee  Nation.  We  found  the 
town  disturbed  and  the  intelligent  Cherokees  in  deep  distress. 
For  bad  news  had  just  reached  them,  news  of  an  event  that  to 
their  minds  seemed  to  threaten  civil  war  and  consequent  de- 
struction to  Cherokee  nationality.  As  we  heard  the  story  at 
Gibson,  it  ran  that  a  Cherokee  Court,  while  in  session  trying  a 
man  for  murder,  had  been  attacked  by  enemies  of  the  prisoner, 
led  on  by  white  men,  and  that  ten  or  a  dozen  were  killed  on 
each  side.  This  had  happened  in  Going  Snake  District,  north 
of  Tahlequah,  so  we  determined  to  push  on  to  the  latter  place 
and  learn  the  official  report. 

Fort  Gibson  takes  its  name  from  the  former  military  post 
here,  disestablished  soon  after  the  war.  Most  of  the  buildings 
remain  in  tolerably  good  order,  and  all  are  occupied  for  various 
business  purposes.  The  town  has  half  a  dozen  nice  frame  and 
brick  houses,  and  some  fifty  neat  log  houses,  probably  three 
hundred  inhabitants,  two  good  hotels,  and  an  air  of  enterprise. 
It  is  the  entrepot  of  a  large  agricultural  district,  and  the  location 
of  a  Cherokee  Court,  and  Secretary  Delano  has  decided  that  a 
term  of  the  United  States  District  Court  shall  be  held  there  for 
the  Indian  Territory,  instead  of  at  Fort  Smith,  Arkansas.  This 
would  be  a  most  important  reform.  Business,  which  has  hith- 
erto tended  toward  the  eastern  border,  will  now  set  toward  the 
railroad,  and  it  is  best  for  white,  black  and  red  to  have  the 
Court  which  takes  cognizance  of  inter-race  difficulties,  in  the 
center  of  the  country. 

The  distance  to  Tahlequah  is  twenty-two  miles,  which  we 
must  divide  in  two  journeys.  "  Better  stop  at  Widow  Skrim- 


A    HOT   WALK. 


405 


sheets  over  night ;  got  a  good  house  and  a  white  son-in-law  ; 
'taint  but  fifteen  miles  there,"  said  our  new  friends.  So,  valise 
on  shoulder,  we  started  for  the  Widow's,  through  a  beautiful 
and  well-improved  country  for  the  first  six  miles.  The  log 
houses  here  are  superior  in  style  to  those  in  most  new  countries, 
being  high,  neatly  squared  at  the  corners,  and  well  shingled. 
There  are  few  frames.  The  improvements  are  much  finer  than 
among  the  Creeks,  and 
about  equal  to  those  of 
the  Choctaws.  From 
rolling  prairie  we  de- 
scended into  a  broad 
valley  with  heavy  tim- 
ber. From  the  open 
and  windy  plain  to  this 
grove  was  like  going 
from  pleasant  April  to 
sultry  July.  Our  val- 
ises seemed  to  weigh  a 
hundred  each ;  our 
clothing  dripped  with 
sweat,  and  we  were 
soon  exhausted  by  fa- 
tigue. We  turned  aside 
to  the  residence  of  a 
"  White  Cherokee,"  the 
usual  double  log  with 
porch  between,  lay  pros- 
trate in  the  passage, 
smoked  a  pipe  of  his  "home  raisin',"  and  "interviewed"  him 
as  to  the  situation.  He  had  been  a  Union  Cherokee;  took 
a  hundred  men  out  of  here  by  night  in  the  fall  of  '61 ;  went 
North  and  became  a  Captain  ;  came  back  after  the  war,  found 
his  house  and  fences  burned  and  all  his  stock  run  off — some  to 
Kansas,  some  to  Texas.  "  Was  rich  afo'  the  war ;  derned  poor 
now,  but  gittin'  started  again.  Hated  the  loss  of  his  sheep 
wuss'n  anything  else — fine  bloods — couldn't  get  others  like  'em. 


FOREST  SCENE. 


406  "SKRIMSHEE." 

Common  sheep,  what  the  Kansas  folks  didn't  steal,  tuck  the 
scab  and  died.  Was  in  favor  of  Ockmulkee  Constitution,  op- 
posed to  Oklahoma.  Did  not  see  what  white  men  wanted  here, 
with  so  much  good  land  up  north  yet.  Reckoned  they  was  like 
spoiled  children — always  wanted  a  thing  ten  times  as  bad  if 
they  knowed  they  oughtn't  to  have  it,"  etc. 

We  traveled  on  in  the  cool  of  the  evening,  and  at  dark 
reached  Skrimshee's  completely  fagged  out.  We  found  the 
widow  a  dark  Cherokee,  social  and  intelligent,  with  a  handsome 
half-blood  daughter,  married  to  a  white  man.  With  a  pleasing 
Southern  accent  she  related  her  experience  in  the  "  old  Nation 
in  Geaugey,"  and  removal  here.  Her  memory  ran  back  to  a 
time  when  a  few  of  the  Cherokees  still  practiced  some  heathen 
rites;  but  the  tribe  was  always  rather  advanced  in  some  respects. 
For  a  hundred  years  they  have  cultivated  corn  and  tobacco,  and 
occupied  well  built  log  houses.  She  inquired  with  great  interest 
of  Hon.  James  Ashley,  who  stopped  at  her  house  when  on  his 
special  mission  here;  and  if  the  honorable  gentleman  should 
read  this  volume,  he  is  hereby  assured  of  Mrs.  Skrirnshee's  con- 
tinued high  regard.  Morning  showed  this  to  be  a  place  of  great 
natural  beauty.  A  gentle  slope  toward  a  clear  stream  is  covered 
by  fine  timber;  behind  the  house  rises  a  beautiful  mound,  and 
at  the  foot  of  the  slope  is  an  immense  spring  of  cold,  clear 
water.  At  some  distant  day  this  will  be  a  place  of  fashionable 
resort.  Near  the  spring,  which  is  enlarged  to  a  rod  square  in 
the  solid  rock,  were  encamped  a  number  of  families  en  route 
from  Texas  to  Missouri.  The  young  man  of  the  house,  who 
had  lived  there  five  years,  assured  us  there  was  a  considerable 
number  who  moved  once  a  year,  raising  one  crop  in  Missouri 
and  the  next  in  Texas,  dodging  the  tax-gatherer,  trading  along 
the  way  a  little  and  living  many  weeks  on  the  road.  Some  of 
them  he  knew  by  sight  who  had  passed  three  or  four  times.  As 
the  wagons  rolled  out  I  scraped  acquaintance  with  the  chief  man 
of  the  outfit,  our  entire  conversation  being  just  this : 

Myself—"  Moving  back,  eh  ?  " 

He — "  No,  by  G — d,  a  movin'  right  straight  ahead/' 

I  felt  that  I  had  obtained  some  information,  and  forbore. 


WE    11EACH    TAHLEQUAII. 


407 


AT  WIDOW  SKRIMSHEE'S. 

We  reached  Tahlequah  at  noon,  passing  for  the  last  two  miles 
through  a  rich  open  country,  in  which  is  the  Orphan  Asylum 
and  School.  This  institution  will  compare  favorably  with 
similar  ones  in  the  States.  Tahlequah  is  in  the  edge  of  a  beauti- 
ful grove,  and  is  a  fair  average  town  of  perhaps  five  hundred 
inhabitants.  The  Capitol  is  about  of  the  same  architectural 
rank  as  the  best  High  School  buildings  of  Cincinnati.  Built 
of  brick,  in  a  perfect  square,  three  stories  high,  with  a  cupola, 
it  is  rather  smaller  than  the  State  House  at  Indianapolis,  but 
much  prettier  and  better  built. 

We  are  directed  to  the  hotel  kept  by  Mrs.  Thomson,  rather 
light  Cherokee,  widow  of  a  white  physician,  and,  as  we  near 
her  house,  the  clear  notes  of  a  well-toned  piano  are  born  to  our 


408  WILLIAM    BOUDINOT. 

ears,  and  the  familiar  music  of  the  "Cornflower  Waltz7'  strikes 
us  with  a  strange  mixture  of  the  odd  and  pleasing.  It  is 
a  day  of  merriment  with  the  "  White  Cherokees,"  for  Mrs. 
Thomson's  youngest  daughter  was  married  yesterday  to  a  white 
young  man,  son  of  an  old  missionary,  and  we  arrived  in  the 
middle  of  the  "  infair."  The  bride  is  the  prettiest  girl  I  have 
yet  seen  in  the  Nation.  Her  one-fourth  Cherokee  blood  makes 
her  an  olive  brunette,  to  be  voted  as  of  rare  beauty  anywhere. 

The  musician  we  heard  proved  to  be  William  Boudinot,  a 
rather  noted  citizen,  editor  of  the  Cherokee  Advocate,  brother 
of  the  Elias  Boudinot  who  has  been  active  at  Washington  in 
pushing  forward  the  Oklahoma  Bill.  William  is  earnestly 
opposed  to  that  measure,  and  to  white  immigration,  but  ad- 
vocates the  Ockmulkee  Constitution  and  allotment  of  land — that 
each  Cherokee  may  hold  his  own  share  in  fee  simple.  A  few 
of  the  more  intelligent  agree  with  him,  but  the  mass  of  the 
Nation  are  equally  opposed  to  both  plans.  They  are  suspicious 
of  all  changes.  To  them  sectionizing  and  allotment  look  only 
like  cautious  schemes  to  admit  more  white  men;  they  are 
ignorant  alike  of  the  minor  points  in  Ockmulkee  and  Okla- 
homa,* and  alike  distrust  both.  The  Advocate  is  the  official 
and  national  organ  of  the  Cherokee  Nation,  and  is  a  handsome, 
well  edited  sheet.  The  Choctaws  have  a  small  paper  called  the 
Vindicator.  These  are  the  only  journals  published  in  the 
Territories. 

Here  we  receive  the  official  account  from  Judge  Sixkiller 
and  the  Sheriff  of  Going  Snake  District,  of  the  late  terrible 
riot  there  ;  also,  the  account  of  the  other  side,  published  in  an 
Arkansas  paper.  It  appears,  from  both  accounts,  that  the 
prisoner  Proctor,  some  time  ago,  shot  at  a  white  man,  missed 
him  and  killed  his  wife,  a  Cherokee  woman.  As  to  the  murder, 
both  parties  being  Cherokees,  the  United  States  Court  left  that 
to  the  Nation ;  but  a  warrant  was  issued  against  Proctor  for 
shooting  at  the  white  man  "  with  intent  to  kill."  Of  course  the 
greater  crime  took  precedence,  and  the  Cherokee  Court  pro- 
ceeded to  trial.  It  was  whispered  about  that  Proctor  would  be 

*  A  Cherokee  compound  word  signifying  "  The  State  of  Red  Men.1* 


A   CHEROKEE   FEUD.  409 

cleared,  and  the  friends  of  the  woman  gathered,  expressing 
their  determination,  to  kill  him  as  soon  as  released.  The 
Courts,  fearing  an  attack,  had  a  strong  guard.  Meanwhile 
United  States  Marshal  Owens  came  with  a  warrant  to  arrest 
Proctor  as  soon  as  the  Cherokee  Court  should  discharge  him, 
and  most  unwisely  yielded  to  the  clamors  of  the  party  hostile 
to  the  prisoner,  took  them  as  his  posse  and  started  for  the 
Courthouse. 

As  he  neared  the  door,  a  nephew  of  the  murdered  woman 
sprang  in  before  him  and  pointed  a  gun  at  the  prisoner.  The 
latter  knocked  it  down,  when  it  was  discharged  into  the  floor. 
The  guards  then  fired  upon  the  attacking  party,  and  a  general 
battle  ensued.  The  leader  of  the  attack  and  Marshal  Owens 
were  mortally  wounded,  and  seven  of  the  outside  party  shot 
dead.  Judge  Alberti,  the  prisoner's  counsel,  was  killed  in  his 
chair,  as  were  two  of  the  jurymen.  Several  more  inside  were 
wounded,  including  the  Judge,  Sixkiller,  and  the  prisoner. 
The  total  loss  is  set  down  at  eleven  killed  and  eighteen  wounded, 
two  of  them  mortally.  This  terrible  affair  was  one  of  sad  im- 
port to  the  Cherokees.  Their  Courts  had  usually  run  with  so 
little  difficulty  that  the  slanders  of  their  enemies  had  died  for 
lack  of  any  basis  in  fact.  This  occurrence,  they  feared,  would 
be  heralded  over  the  country  and  at  Washington  as  an  act  of 
resistance  to  law,  and  be  made  a  powerful  argument  against 
their  independence. 

We  had  a  delightful  rest  of  three  days  at  the  capital  of  the 
Cherokoes.  The  town  reminds  me  of  the  better  class  of  country 
villages  in  the  interior  of  Indiana — not  quite  so  well  built,  per- 
haps, but  beautiful,  with  flower  gardens,  orchards,  and  culti- 
vated grass  plats.  The  place  is  rich  in  historic  interest.  For 
twenty  years  all  books,  papers,  and  documents  having  relation 
to  these  people  have  been  collected  ;  and  what  with  excursions, 
talks  with  the  young  people,  and  reading  Indian  literature,  we 
had  a  season  of  novel  enjoyment.  The  Cherokees  represent  the 
best  history  and  the  hope  of  the  Indian  race,  as  regards  civiliza- 
tion, justice  from  the  whites,  and  a  future.  If  they  are  a  fail- 
ure, the  race  is  doomed. 

They  have  been  an  organized  Nation,  with  Constitution,  elected 


410 


CHEROKEE   LAW. 


FIGHT  AT  GOING  SNAKE  COURT  HOUSE. 

officers,  and  written  laws,  for  seventy  years  ;  and  their  published 
records  are  of  the  most  intense  interest.  The  first  printed  law 
I  find  is  dated  Broom's  Town  (in  Georgia),  llth  Sept.,  1808, 
and  reads : — 

RESOLVED  by  the  Chiefs  and  Warriors  in  a  National  Council  Assembled:  .  .  . 
When  any  person  or  persons  which  may  or  shall  be  charged  with  stealing  a  horse, 
and  upon  conviction  by  one  or  two  witnesses,  he,  she,  or  they,  shall  be  punished 
with  one  hundred  stripes  on  the  bare  back,  and  the  punishment  to  be  in  propor- 
tion for  stealing  property  of  less  value ;  and  should  the  accused  person  or  per- 
sons raise  up  with  arms  in  his  or  their  hands,  as  guns,  axes,  spears  and  knives, 
in  opposition  to  the  regulating  company,  or  should  they  kill  him  or  them,  the 
blood  of  him  or  them  shall  not  be  required  of  any  of  the  persons  belonging  to 
the  regulators  from  the  clan  the  person  so  killed  belonged  to. 

Accepted :  BLACK  Fox,  Principal  Chief. 

PATHKILLER,  Second  Chief. 
TOOCHALAB. 
CHAS.  HICKS,  Sec'y  to  Council. 


"RINGS."  411 

A  number  of  acts  following  bear  the  signatures  of  "Turtle-at- 
home,  Speaker  of  Council/'  and  Ehnautaunaueh.  The  gram- 
mar is  often  bad,  but  the  meaning  clear  and  explicit,  and  the 
punishments  prescribed  very  severe. 

An  address,  issued  May  6,  1817,  sets  forth  that  "Fifty-four 
towns  and  villages  have  convened  in  order  to  deliberate  on  the 
situation  of  our  Nation;"  and  ends  by  proposing  a  "Set  of 
Rules,"  or  new  Constitution,  of  six  articles,  "  as  a  form  for  the 
future  government  of  our  Nation."  The  Constitution  would 
cover  about  two  pages  of  this  work,  and  appears  to  have  been 
unanimously  adopted.  The  new  government  had  been  in  oper- 
ation but  a  few  years  before  it  was  troubled  by  "  rings,"  and  a 
huge  Credit  Mobilier  scheme,  darkly  hinted  at  in  an  act  passed 
October  30,  1819,  beginning  thus  : 

Whereas,  The  Big  Rattling  Gourd,  William  Grimit,  Betsey  Broom,  the  Dark, 
Daniel  Griffin  and  Mrs.  Lesley  have  made  certain  promises,  &c. : 

Be  it  noiv,  therefore,  known, The  above  persons  are  the  only  legal 

proprietors  and  a  privileged  company  to  establish  a  turnpike,  leading  from  Widow 
Fools',  at  the  forks  of  Hightower  and  Oastinallah,  to  the  first  creek  east  of  John 
Field's,  known  by  the  name  Where- Vann-was-shot,  etc. 

An  "  investigation "  resulted,  of  course,  but  it  proved  that 
no  member  of  the  House  of  Chiefs  or  House  of  Warriors  had 
any  stock  in  the  turnpike. 

The  next  act  divides  the  fifty-four  towns  into  eight  judicial 
districts,  naming  a  council  house  for  each ;  and  full  provisions 
were  subsequently  made  for  light-horse  companies,  to  serve  as  a 
posse,  under  command  of  the  sheriffs.  From  such  feeble  be- 
ginnings the  organization  of  government  appears  to  have  pro- 
ceeded much  as  among  other  people  until  1825,  when  the  grand 
agitation  began  for  the  removal  of  the  Cherokees.  Fifty  acts 
or  more  appear,  relating  to  encouraging  missionaries,  establish- 
ing schools,  preventing  the  woods  being  set  on  fire,  the  return 
of  estrays,  etc ;  then  most  of  the  laws  refer  to  their  dealings 
with  the  whites.  A  more  complete  Constitution  was  adopted 
in  1827;  and,  in  1829,  an  official  paper  established,  edited  by 
Elias  Boudinot  and  Stephen  Foreman,  and  known  as  the 
Cherokee  Phoenix.  Meanwhile  part  of  the  tribe  had  removed 
to  Arkansas  Territory ;  and  their  laws,  "  Entered  by  request  of 


412  CHEROKEE   ARCHIVES. 

the  old  Chief,  John  Jolly,"  and  signed  by  Walter  Webber, 
Black  Fox,  Too-cho-wuh,  and  Spring  Frog — wonder  if  he  was 
in  that  Credit  Mobilier? — are  bound  up  with  the  rest. 

The  Eastern  and  Western  Cherokees  reunited  in  their  present 
country  in  1839,  and  the  "Act  of  Union"  is  signed  by  James 
Brown,  Te-ke-chu-las-kee,  George  Guess  (Se-quo-yah),  Jesse 
Bushyhead,  Lewis  Ross,  Tobacco  Will,  Thomas  Candy,  Young 
Wolf,  Ah-sto-la-ta  and  some  others.  At  the  conclusion  is 
this  endorsement : 

"The  foregoing  instrument  was  read,  considered,  and  ap- 
proved by  us,  this  23d  day  of  August,  1839 :  Major  Pullum, 
Young  Elders,  Deer  Track,  Young  Puppy  (!),  Turtle  Fields, 
July,  The  Eagle,  The  Crying  Buffalo,  and  a  great  number  of 
respectable  old  settlers  and  late  emigrants  too  numerous  to  be 
copied." 

A  new  and  much  more  elaborate  Constitution  was  adopted, 
and  among  the  names  of  the  legislators  appear  O-kan-sto-tah 
Logan,  Young  Wolf,  Bark  Flute  (probably  a  musical  orator), 
Oo-la-yo-a,  and  Soft  Shell  Turtle.  Thence  the  acts  continue 
with  an  odd  mixture  of  the  ludicrous  and  severe;  but  when  we 
come  to  their  history  as  connected  with  the  whites  and  the 
Government,  the  record  ceases  to  be  amusing. 

Far  back  of  the  time  when  white  men  met  them,  the  tradi- 
tions of  the  Cherokees  are  so  well  connected  and  consistent  that 
they  deserve  the  name  of  history. 

Between  five  hundred  and  a  thousand  years  ago  the  aborigines 
of  Western  North  Carolina  found  themselves  crowded  upon  by 
a  superior  race  moving  southward  along  the  eastern  base  of  the 
Blue  Ridge,  a  branch  of  the  great  Waupanuckee,  to  whom  the 
whites  gave  the  name  of  Lenni-Lennape,  or  Delawares.  By 
their  account  the  Powhatanese,  the  race  of  Pocahontas  and 
Opechancanough  and  other  noted  tribes,  are  part  of  the  same 
stock.  After  a  brief  period  of  warfare  they  established  them- 
selves in  an  irregular  square  consisting  of  Western  North  Caro- 
lina, East  Tennessee,  and  Northern  Georgia  and  Alabama,  and 
were  considered  as  "the  younger  sons  of  the  Delawares."  Some 
twenty  years  before  our  Revolution,  occurred  their  first  general 


CAROLINA  WAR. 


413 


GEN.  MARION  IN  THE  CHEROKEE  COUNTRY. 

war  with  the  whites.  The  Carolines  raised  a  force  of  twelve 
hundred  militia,  who,  joined  by  a  large  force  of  British  regu- 
lars, marched  into  the  Cherokee  country.  In  this  army  were 
two  militia  lieutenants,  since  known  to  fame,  as  Major  Peter 
Horry  and  General  Francis  Marion.  The  Cherokees  took 
position  at  a  mountain  pass,  and  Marion  commanded  the  scout- 
ing party  sent  to  explore  it.  He  was  surprised  and  nearly  all 
his  command  destroyed.  A  desperate  battle  then  ensued,  in 
which  the  Cherokees  were  finally  defeated  with  great  slaughter. 
The  army  entered  their  country,  burned  their  towns  and  cut 
down  all  their  corn,  then  just  in  the  roasting-ear  state.  Major 
Horry  tells  with  surprise  of  their  superior  dwellings  and  style 
of  cultivation,  far  in  advance  of  any  other  Indians. 


414  CHEROKEE   EXODUS. 

The  irregular  wars  which  followed  were  terminated  by  the 
treaty  of  Hopewell  in  1785,  made  with  the  American  Confede- 
ration, the  first  treaty  of  which  the  Cherokees  have  any  account. 
They  adopted  the  arms,  household  and  agricultural  implements 
of  the  whites,  took  some  steps  in  civilization,  and  have  ever 
since  striven  to  live  at  peace  with  us.  This  was  followed  by 
the  treaty  of  Holston  in  1791,  the  treaty  of  Philadelphia  in 
1794,  and  that  of  Tellico  in  1798,  all  made  with  the  United 
States,  and  each  containing  words  expressly  recognizing  the 
Cherokees  as  "  a  separate  and  independent  Nation,  with  power 
as  a  body  politic,  and  to  be  dealt  with  as  one  Nation  deals 
with  another."  This  express  recognition  has  been  repeated 
in  nineteen  successive  treaties,  and  judicially  determined  in 
their  favor  by  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States.  In 
the  year  1794,  letters  patent  issued  for  the  Cherokee  lands, 
bearing  the  signature  of  George  Washington. 

All  these  solemn  agreements  were  broken  at  once,  in  1802, 
by  the  "compact  between  the  State  of  Georgia  and  the  United 
States,"  a  compact  to  which  the  Cherokees  were  neither  a  party 
nor  advised  thereof.  They  were  simply  its  helpless  victims. 
They  were  told  then,  as  now,  that  they  must  civilize;  and  then,  as 
now,  they  were  striving  to  progress,  already  had  much  of  their 
land  under  cultivation,  lived  in  houses,  welcomed  teachers  and 
missionaries,  and  had  schools,  workshops  and  newspapers.  In 
the  administration  of  Jefferson,  the  States  in  which  they  lived 
began  an  agitation  for  their  removal ;  it  increased  to  a  popular 
frenzy  under  Jackson,  and  ended  by  a  new  treaty  under  Van 
Buren.  Then  took  place  the  world-renowned  "  Cherokee  Dis- 
cussion." It  created  schism  in  the  State  Legislatures,  it  fur- 
nished eloquence  in  Congrsss,  and  gave  point  to  party  warfare; 
the  mild  but  persistent  energy  of  the  Cherokees,  their  diplo- 
matic ability  and  shrewdness,  above  all  the  evident  justice 
of  their  cause,  made  them  world-renowned;  the  sympathetic 
heart  of  Whittier  has  overflowed  in  rhythmic  plaints  for  their 
wrongs,  and  the  story  of  their  fortitude  was  embellished  by  the 
genius  of  Halleck. 

Triumphant  before  every  legal  tribunal,  up  to  the  Supreme 


INDIAN   TERRITORY   ORGANIZED.  415 

Court,  they  yielded  at  last  to  the  threats  of  superior  power. 
But  the  whole  country  had  become  interested  in  them,  to  an 
extent  which  we  can  now  scarce  realize.  It  was  the  question  of 
the  hour.  The  files  of  papers  of  tlrat  period  are  full  of  refer- 
ence to  them.  The  States  from  which  they  moved,  and  every 
department  of  the  National  Government  united  in  most  solemn 
and  repeated  pledges  to  the  Cherokees,  if  they  would  consent 
to  remove,  of  a  country  which  should  be  theirs  and  theirs  only 
forever, — pledges  of  protection  from  war,  trespass  and  intru- 
sion, of  local  and  self-government,  and  of  the  unquestioned 
ownership  of  their  new  lands  by  a  fee  simple  title,  under  letters 
patent,  signed  by  the  President. 

The  Cherokees  became  divided  on  the  subject  of  removal ; 
part  agreed  to  go,  and  another  pledge  of  protection  was 
made  to  the  few  who  desired  to  remain.  This  division  was 
recognized  by  the  Government  in  two  treaties  of  1817  and  1819. 
President  Monroe's  message  in  1825,  recommended  the  setting 
apart  of  a  country  for  those  "semi-civilized  races  for  their  occu- 
pancy forever,"  and  Jackson  renewed  the  proposition  in  1829. 

Thus  called  upon  by  the  Indians'  "Great  Father/'  Congress 
passed,  on  the  28th  of  May,  1830,  the  act  setting  aside  this 
Territory,  with  the  most  solemn  guarantees.  One  clause  reads : 
"  It  shall  and  may  be  lawful  for  the  President  solemnly  to 
assure  the  tribe  or  Nation  with  which  the  exchange  is  made 
that  the  United  States  will  forever  secure  and  guarantee  to  them, 
their  heirs  or  successors,  the  country  so  exchanged  with  them, 
and  if  they  prefer  it,  the  United  States  will  cause  a  patent  to  be 
made  and  executed  to  them  for  the  same ;  provided,  always,  that 
such  lands  shall  revert  to  the  United  States  if  the  Indians 
become  extinct  or  abandon  the  same."  Under  this  the  most  of 
the  Cherokees  agreed  to,  and  did,  remove.  Tradition  tells  us 
that  as  the  main  body  of  several  thousand  took  up  their  line  of 
march  for  the  river  on  which  they  embarked,  sad  and  silent, 
they  moved  with  a  quiet  dignity  the  whites  have  often  called 
sullenness,  disdaining  to  show  the  grief  which  rent  their  bosoms; 
but  when  they  reached  the  nights  from  which  a  last  look 
could  be  had  of  their  most  beautiful  valley,  the  oldest  woman  of 


416 


LAMENT  OF  THE  EXILES. 


THE  LAST  CRY  OF  THE  CHEROKEE. 

the  tribe  turned  her  face  to  the  east,  uttered  one  heart-piercing 
shriek,  and  fell  dead  to  the  ground.  Then  every  warrior's  eye 
became  a  fountain  of  tears,  and  from  every  part  of  the  line 
the  women  united  in  a  wailing  chorus  that  sounded  for  miles 
along  the  stream — a  long,  mournful,  monotonous  howl.  It  was 
the  last  despairing  wail  of  an  exiled  race. 

The  few  who  remained  endeavored  to  sell  their  improved 
farms  and  go  in  better  condition.  But  they  were  harassed  in 
the  same  manner  as  the  Creeks,  of  which  I  have  heretofore 
spoken,  and  lost  their  lands  in  spite  of  their  care.  But  the 
people  were  moved  to  sympathy.  The  Government  tried  to 
atone  for  this,  and  ceded  them  lands  here,  acre  for  acre  with 
those  they  had  left.  Another  treaty  was  made  with  all  the 


WEALTHY   CHEROKEES.  417 

solemn  forms,  and  with  renewed  promises,  attested  by  every 
department  of  Government,  and  double-secured  by  a  patent  for 
their  lands.  Bear  in  mind,  this  is  not  an  "Indian  title,"  so 
called,  not  a  title  by  occupancy,  not  a  "  squatter's  right ;"  but  a 
patent  of  the  United  States,  specially  provided  for  by  act  of  Con- 
gress, bearing  the  name  of  the  President,  adorned  by  the  broad 
seal  of  the  National  Government,  twice  pronounced  perfect  by 
the  Supreme  Court,  and  since  fully  recognized  in  eight  solemn 
treaties  !  Could  title  to  land  be  more  perfect  ? 

The  next  treaty,  that  of  New  Echota,  in  1835,  renews  all 
previous  pledges,  and  the  treaty  of  1846  repeats  almost  the 
exact  language  of  the  act  of  May  1830,  ending  with  the  same 
words :  "  Such  land  shall  revert  to  the  United  States  if  the 
Indians  become  extinct  or  abandon  the  same."  Under  these 
last  three  words  the  land  robbers  now  seek  to  enter.  They 
maintain  that  when  the  chief  men  and  part  of  the  Nation  went 
into  the  rebellion  in  1861,  they  did,  by  that  act,  "abandon  the 
same"  lands,  that  they  became  forfeit  to  the  United  States,  and 
that  there  is  now  nothing  but  the  savage  Indian's  title  of  occu- 
pancy, which  we  may  abolish  at  pleasure. 

But  the  Cherokees  seem  to  have  been  at  last  convinced  that 
this  country  was  to  be  theirs  forever.  They  went  to  work, 
gradually  learned  the  ways  of  civilization,  welcomed  teachers, 
established  schools,  and  opened  farms;  by  1840  they  were 
already  considered  prosperous ;  they  lived  in  greater  comfort, 
and  consequently  their  numbers  began  to  increase.  By  1850 
they  were  considered  a  wealthy  people. 

The  new  generation  numbered  many  who  had  fine  educa- 
tions, and  their  progress  thence  to  1860  was  astonishingly  rapid. 
3?heir  average  wealth  was  greater  than  that  of  any  community 
in  the  West.  Single  herders  owned  cattle  to  the  value  of  a 
hundred  thousand  dollars.  In  this  mild  climate  and  upon  these 
rich  prairies  cattle  multiplied  rapidly.  There  was  soon  no  land 
"  running  to  waste,"  for  all  was  utilized  as  pasture.  Many 
white  men  sought  citizenship  or  married  Cherokee  girls,  and 
were  adopted,  and  the  advance  of  the  Nation  was  healthful, 
natural  and  rapid.  Such  wealth,  with  the  lingerings  of  a  wild 
27 


418  EUINED   IN   THE   WAR. 

taste,  resulted  in  a  semi-barbaric  splendor  which  excited  the 
astonishment  or  envy  of  white  visitors.  Their  trade  became  of 
vast  importance.  Cattle  came  out,  and  carriages,  pianos,  fine 
horses  and  accoutrements  and  golden  ornaments  went  in.  Re- 
turned traders  of  1860  speak  with  astonishment  of  gaudy  displays 
at  their  public  gatherings,  of  their  rich  caparisons  and  golden 
tassels,  and  of  wealth  which  showed  ostentatiously  in  gold  dol- 
lars worn  by  the  dozen  as  buttons.  Ten  years  more  of  such 
progress  and  a  generation  of  Cherokees  would  have  risen  to 
invite  white  immigration  by  successive  degrees,  and  to  assist 
their  more  tardy  Indian  brethren  in  progress.  Such  was  the 
scene  in  the  spring  of  1861. 

In  1865  the  Nation  was  an  almost  uninhabited  waste.  Their 
cattle  had  been  driven  by  tens  of  thousands  into  Kansas, 
Arkansas  and  Texas.  Men  are  now  living  in  opulence  in  the 
former  State  who  made  their  money  out  of  Cherokee  cattle, 
" confiscated"  during  the  war.  Their  surplus  was  gone,  they 
were  on  the  verge  of  starvation,  and  had  neither  seed  nor  stock 
to  start  them  again.  .The  Southern  Cherokees  came  back,  and 
the  Northern  ones  met  them ;  they  made  up  their  quarrel,  sadly 
gathered  up  the  little  remnant  they  had  left,  and  went  to  work 
again.  But  before  they  had  recovered  anything  they  were 
startled  at  having  it  announced  that  their  lands  were  forfeited 
on  account  of  their  rebellion.  Unlike  the  Southern  rebels,  they 
were  to  suffer  confiscation  ;  "  corruption  of  blood  and  forfeiture," 
which  the  Constitution  forbids  against  an  individual,  the  bor- 
derers claimed  should  be  the  rule  against  the  Nation,  and 
general  distress  and  uncertainty  prevailed  through  the  period  of 
reconstruction.  These  matters  were  finally  settled,  or  supposed 
to  be  settled,  by  the  "General  Treaty  of  1866,"  the  twentieth 
and  last  treaty  between  our  Government  and  the  Cherokee 
Nation.  They  gave  up  much ;  surrendered  all  claim  to  their 
Kansas  lands,  and  ceded  their  land  west  of  meridian  96°,  "for 
other  Indians  to  be  settled  upon/'  reducing  their  former  terri- 
tory from  fourteen  to  seven  million  acres.  But  they  still  had 
the  best  part  of  it,  and  received  in  return  for  the  rest  new 
guarantees,  reaffirming  all  before  the  war  as  to  title.  By  this 


CHEROKEE    TITLE.  419 

treaty  the  Government  waived  all  rights,  if  it  had  any,  to  take 
advantage  of  their  rebellion.  By  the  twenty -sixth  article 
thereof,  "The  United  States  guarantee  to  the  people  of  the 
Cherokee  Nation  the  quiet  and  peaceable  possession  of  their 
country  against  domestic  feuds  and  insurrections,  or  the  hostil- 
ities of  other  tribes.  .  .  .  They  shall  also  be  protected 
against  intrusion  from  all  citizens  of  the  United  States  who  may 
attempt  to  settle  on  their  lands  or  reside  in  their  country."  In 
return  they  grant  the  right  of  way  to  two  railroads. 

Such  is  a  brief  account  of  our  dealings  with  these  people,  and 
of  the  tenure  by  which  they  hold  their  lands,  compiled  from 
public  documents,  and  in  view  of  the  present  move  against  the 
title,  I  would  ask  in  all  seriousness  :  is  there  a  farmer  in  Ohio 
who  has  a  clearer,  more  legal  or  better  supported  title  to  his 
farm  than  they? — a  title  twice  especially  provided  for  by  Con- 
gress, twice  supported  by  Presidential  patent,  twice  confirmed 
by  the  Supreme  Court,  gained  by  the  cession  of  lands  held  in 
severalty,  and  recognized  by  a  dozen  treaties !  The  Govern- 
ment can  do  anything.  For  it  to  crush  this  feeble  Nation 
would  be  like  the  chivalry  of  a  giant  trampling  upon  an  infant. 
Granting  for  argument's  sake  that  they  do  allow  much  of  their 
country  to  go  to  waste,  still  it  is  unquestionably  theirs,  in  fee 
simple,  and  we  could  hardly  advocate  the  right  of  taking  an 
Ohio  farm  from  the  owner  because  he  did  not  till  it  well.  But 
the  statement  is  not  true.  Nearly  all  of  their  country  was  util- 
ized before  the  war,  and  will  be  again  ere  many  years.  They 
are  unquestionably  progressing  in  civilization  quite  as  fast  as 
we  could  reasonably  expect.  Have  we  not  broken  faith  with 
them  often  enough  ?  Can  we  not  afford  to  try  the  experiment 
of  honest  dealing  with  one  generation  of  Cherokees  ? 

April  26th,  1872. — I  am  ready  to  leave  the  Indian  Territory 
and  go  westward  to  Santa  Fe,  but  first  let  me  "sum  up"  en 
Oklahoma. 

I  have  now  traveled  a  month  among  the  Nations,  some  two 
hundred  miles  by  rail  and  the  same  through  the  country  afoot 
and  on  horseback.  I  have  seen  the  Indians  at  home  and  on 
their  farms,  have  attended  their  churches  and  visited  their 


420  THE   SITUATION. 

schools,  have  talked  by  their  hearths  and  slept  in  their  cabins, 
"  eaten  of  their  salt  and  warmed  at  their  fires."  My  general 
impression  is  one  of  the  most  agreeable  disappointment.  I 
have  seen  so  much  more  of  progress,  of  improvement  and  educa- 
tion, than  I  had  been  led  to  expect,  that  from  a  doubting  in- 
difference I  have  attained  to  an  earnest  belief  in  their  capacity 
and  willingness  for  a  perfect  civilization.  And  if  my  con- 
clusions should  sometimes  read  like  an  argument  for  the  Indians 
here  rather  than  a  simple  statement  of  facts,  I  will  not  deny 
that  my  sympathies  are  powerfully  enlisted  for  these  people, 
and  I  would  willingly  do  them  a  kindness  if  my  humble  pen 
could  accomplish  it  in  a  portrayal  of  their  case. 

Here  are  sixty  thousand  red  men  who  are  neither  hunters  nor 
root  diggers;  they  are  agriculturists,  herdsmen  and  mechanics. 
They  long  ago  advanced  from  the  savage  to  the  barbarous  state, 
when  they  first  met  the  whites ;  since  then  they  have  advanced 
from  the  barbarous  to  the  half-civilized  and  civilized,  and  in 
another  generation  we  may  reasonable  hope  to  see  them  civilized 
and  enlightened.  This  Territory  contains  the  hope,  the  stay, 
the  glory  of  our  aboriginal  race.  If  these  can  not  be  civilized, 
the  race  is  doomed.  With  more  than  ordinary  interest,  there- 
fore, I  have  studied  their  condition.  I  am  now  returned  to 
where  the  prejudice  is  strong  against  them  ;  I  hear  them  cursed 
every  hour  of  the  day,  and  from  my  window,  at  this  moment, 
can  look  out  upon  an  angry  company  of  (( intruders,"  just  ex- 
pelled by  the  military  from  the  Osage  lands  in  the  Arkansas 
Valley.  As  briefly  as  possible,  I  propose  to  sum  up  my 
general  observations,  and  the  reason  why  these  Indians  are  en- 
titled to  the  continued  protection  of  the  Government. 

The  Indian  Territory  extends  westward  from  the  border  of 
Arkansas  to  longitude  100°,  which  geographers  roughly  assume 
as  the  eastern  border  of  the  American  Desert ;  and  northward 
from  Red  River  to  latitude  37°,  the  southern  boundary  of 
Kansas;  a  region  with  the  same  general  climate  as  Tennessee 
and  northern  Mississippi.  The  exact  area,  including  the  wind- 
ings of  Red  River,  is  not  officially  ascertained,  but  is  estimated 
approximately  at  forty-six  million  acres,  or  about  seventy-one 


NOT    A    HEALTHFUL    REGION.  421 

thousand  square  miles,  two  and  a  third  times  the  size  of  In- 
diana. Of  this  entire  area  one-third  may  be  safely  set  down  as 
totally  barren  and  worthless,  consisting  of  the  San  Bois, 
Wichita  and  Boston  mountains  and  spurs,  and  various  high 
sand  ridges  between  the  streams.  One-third  more  is  of  only 
average  value  for  grazing  purposes,  and  the  remaining  third  is 
fine  agricultural  land.  This  last  consists  of  the  long  valleys  of 
the  Arkansas  and  two  Canadians  and  their  tributaries;  of  the 
valley  of  Red  River  and  Grand  River,  and  adjacent  country. 
Along  the  eastern  border  again  is  another  stretch  of  barren 
ridge  and  flinty  hills.  Most  of  the  good  land  is  very  fertile, 
consisting  of  low-lying  valleys,  receiving  the  wash  of  higher 
lands ;  but  there  is  very  little  of  what  is  called  "  bottom/'  or 
overflow  land.  The  climate  can  not  be  considered  healthful  ; 
in  fact,  from  my  own  observation,  I  should  call  it  very  un- 
healthful.  At  the  Creek  Agency  I  had  an  attack  of  ague,  for 
the  first  time  in  many  years,  and  saw  many  other  cases.  Sick- 
ness is  quite  prevalent  among  the  workmen  on  the  Missouri, 
Kansas  and  Texas  Road,  and  contractors  informed  me  that  last 
summer  one-half  of  their  force  was  disabled  by  malarial 
diseases.  The  Indians,  being  acclimated,  are  more  fortunate ; 
but  any  considerable  removals  among  them  are  followed  by  great 
sickness. 

Typhoid  pneumonia,  in  particular,  has  been  endemic  the  past 
winter  on  the  Arkansas;  and  Mr.  Robertson,  the  Presbyterian 
missionary  and  teacher,  assured  me  that  in  his  acquaintance  on 
that  river  (new  settlers  up  north)  "one  in  every  eighteen  died 
since  the  fall  of  the  leaves."  This  was  strictly  confirmed  by 
physicians  at  Vinita  and  Muscogee.  Indeed,  it  is  evident  on 
the  surface,  along  the  railroad,  that  the  country  cannot  be 
healthful.  There  are  no  springs,  and  none  of  the  evanescent 
towns  have  endured  long  enough  to  dig  wells;  slough  and 
river  water  were  used  exclusively  there,  and  it  was  not  till  I 
was  twenty  miles  away  among  the  Cherokees  that  I  got  a 
single  draught  of  spring  water.  The  full-bloods  live  in  the 
timber,  along  the  streams,  and  frequently  have  tolerably  good 
.springs ;  but  everywhere  on  the  prairie  the  water  used  is  from 
sloughs,  or  very  shallow  wells. 


422 


"  HON.    RATTLING  GOURD." 


CHEROKEE  LEGISLATURE. 

This  is  a  territory  only  in  a  geographical  sense;  it  has  no 
territorial  government  like  that  of  Utah  or  Montana.  It  was 
not  organized,  but  "set  apart"  by  Act  of  Congress,  of  May  28, 
1830,  and  contains  three  well  organized  governments,  besides 
minor  ones  in  embryo.  These  three  governments — Cherokee, 
Creek  and  Choctaw — are  republican  in  form,  retaining,  how- 
ever, the  Indian  titles,  though  applied  to  corresponding  Federal 
officials.  Some  Indians  have  adopted  or  inherited  European 
names ;  others  have  simply  translated  their  native  title  into 
English,  and  still  others  have  retained  it  complete.  Hence, 
among  their  public  men  we  find  Ok-ta-ha-sars-ha-jo,  William 
Boudi  not  Esq.,  Hon.  A.  Rattling  Gourd,  Judge  Black  haw 
Sixkiller,  Governor  Walker,  Judge  Going  Snake  and  Black 


GOVERNMENT.  423 

Fox,  Legislators,  and  Turtle-at-home,  Speaker  in  Council. 
One  of  the  most  intelligent  Cherokees  I  met  was  known  as 
Beavers-grandmother.  The  delicate  self-flattery  thus  implied 
doubtless  is,  that  as  the  beaver  is  the  wisest  of  animals,  the 
beaver's  grandmother  must  be  exceedingly  wise.  All  these 
governments  are  carried  on  very  cheaply ;  the  highest  salary 
paid  is  seven  hundred  dollars.  Only  three  get  over  four  hun- 
dred. The  Cherokee  Nation  pays  one  literary  pension — three 
hundred  dollars  a  year  to  the  widow  of  Sequoyah.  For  most 
of  the  minor  judicial  positions,  the  honor  is  considered  sufficient 
reward.  The  Cherokee  Government  was  organized  in  a  semi- 
republican  form,  as  early  as  1805. 

Over  these  various  little  Republics  extend  what  might  be 
called  the  Federal  Protectorate.  The  entire  territory  is 
attached  to  the  Western  District  of  Arkansas,  with  Federal 
Court  at  Fort  Smith.  Thither  are  taken  all  criminal  cases  in 
which  either  party  is  a  white  man,  not  a  citizen,  and  civil  cases 
where  any  white  man  is  a  party  in  interest.  The  boundaries 
of  the  two  jurisdictions  seem  accurately  enough  defined,  but 
still  there  are  frequent  conflicts  of  authority,  the  Cherokees 
being  naturally  a  little  jealous  of  the  authority  of  their  courts, 
and  the  United  States  Marshals  emphatically  "on  the  make." 
I  am  sorry  to  say  that  the  report  I  had  of  them  from  both 
white  and  red  was,  with  a  few  honorable  exceptions,  unquali- 
fiedly bad.  The  location  of  a  Federal  Court  at  Fort  Gibson, 
near  the  center  of  the  Indian  country,  is  a  decided  improve- 
ment. 

Of  the  territory,  the  Cherokees  occupy  the  northeast  quarter, 
their  country  running  to  a  point  southeastward  between  the 
Arkansas  River  and  State  line.  The  Choctaws  have  all  the 
country  between  Canadian  and  Red  Rivers,  while  the  Creeks 
run  partly  in  between  the  other  two,  in  a  long  point  eastward. 
Scattered  among  these  or  on  their  borders,  in  little  divisions  no 
larger  than  a  township,  are  various  minor  tribes,  remnants  of 
decayed  races  from  the  North  and  East,  such  as  the  Quawpaws 
and  Senecas  in  the  northeast  corner  of  the  Cherokees,  and  the 
Wyandottes,  Delawares  and  Shawnees,  who  by  contract  have 


424  ENUMERATION. 

bought  a  "general  head  right"  in  that  Nation,  sunk  their 
tribal  individuality,  and  become  Cherokee  citizens.  On  lands 
just  west  of  each  Nation,  ceded  for  that  purpose,  several  new 
tribes  are  lately  settled,  making  twenty  tribes  and  fragments 
of  tribes  in  all.  I  estimate  their  numbers  respectively  as 
follows,  from  their  vote,  census,  and  recorded  "  head  rights"  at 
the  agencies,  assigning  each  to  the  proper  Nation : 


CHEROKEE  NATION. 

Full  bloods 8,000 

Mixed 4,000 

Freedmen 1,500 

Whites  married  in  or  adopted., * 500 

Delawares 900 

Shawnees 700 

Wyandottes 400 

Quawpaws, 200 

Senecas ...  100 


Total  Cherokee  Nation 16,300 


To  which  should  be  added  some  2000  Cherokees  now  in 
North  Carolina,  who  are  desirous  of  settling  here,  and  for  whose 
removal  the  Nation  is  making  provision,  bringing  the  whole 
number  up  to  about  18,000.  I  do  not  here  include  those  new 
tribes  west  of  96°,  not  yet  formally  incorporated. 


CREEK  NATION. 

Full  Bloods 9,000 

Whites  and  mixed  bloods 1,000 

Freedmen 4,000 

Seminoles •  2,000 

Total  Creek  citizens 16,000 


CHOCTAW  NATION. 

Pure  Choctaws 10,000 

Mixed 4,000 

Whites 1,000 

Chickasaws 5,000 

Freedmen •  2,000 

Total  Choctaw  citizens 22,000 


EDUCATION. 


425 


MINOR  TRIBES. 

Osages,  west  of  96° 3,000 

Kaws,  west  of  96° 600 

Unassigned,  perhaps 3,400 


Total  minor  tribes, 7,000 

Grand  total, 63,000 

The  Choctaws  and  Cherokees  have  the  greatest  number  of 
intelligent  men,  but  the  Creeks  are  just  now  doing  the  most  for 
the  rising  generation.  They  have  three  Mission  High  Schools, 
under  control  respect- 
ively of  the  Baptist, 
Methodist  and  Presby- 
terian Churches,  and 
thirty -one  common 
schools,  mostly  taught 
by  native  teachers.  The 
Cherokees  have  sixty 
common  schools  a  n  d 
one  college — that  near 
Tahlequah.  The  Choc- 
taws  have  fifty  common 
schools,  and  those 
among  other  tribes 
bring  the  whole  number 
up  to  one  hundred  and 
sixty — one  to  every  four 
hundred  of  the  popula- 
tion, a  most  gratifying 
average.  The  teachers 
I  saw  among  the  Creeks 
and  Cherokees  appeared 

to  me  reasonably  well  qualified  for  their  positions,  but  they 
have  one  serious  obstacle  in  the  language.  In  full  blood  settle- 
ments the  child  of  ten  learns  to  read  in  English  at  school,  and 
talks  the  native  language  at  home;  and  distasteful  as  such  a 
statement  may  be  to  their  national  pride,  I  think  they  can  not 
be  quite  certain  of  their  progress  or  standing  until  they  agree  to 


AN  OSAGE   CHIEF. 


426  THE   LAND   TENURE. 

give  up  the  old  language  and  bring  the  English  into  general 
use.  Many  Cherokees  who  can  talk  English  will  not,  and  there 
seems  to  be  a  prejudice  against  those  of  their  people  who  speak 
it  exclusively.  The  Creeks  appear  to  be  a  peculiarly  docile  and 
teachable  people,  accepting  readily  the  suggestions  of  white 
teachers.  Teachers  and  missionaries  are  welcomed  everywhere; 
the  mode  of  living  will  compare  favorably  with  the  Southwestern 
States,  and  it  appears  to  me  that  there  is  a  security  for  life  and 
property  equal  to  any  other  Territory,  and  a  foundation  for  a 
really  prosperous  and  powerful  State. 

The  present  weakness  of  these  people — at  once  their  greatest 
drawback  and  the  temptation  to  outsiders — as  it  seems  to  me,  is 
their  imperfect  land  tenure.  The  land  is  held  in  common  by 
the  whole  tribe,  but  whatever  area  any  citizen  incloses  with  a 
lawful  fence  is  his  while  he  occupies  it.  He  may  be  said  to  own 
the  improvements,  but  not  the  land.  Nothing  is  absolutely  a 
fixture.  Anything  may  be  removed  at  the  owner's  will ;  hence 
there  is  practically  no  real  estate,  no  conservative  landed  inter- 
est— the  only  true  foundation  for  a  progressive  society  and  a 
stable  civil  structure.  The  herder,  hunter  or  explorer,  from 
Kansas  or  Texas,  rides  through  a  beautiful  tract,  and  when  he 
asks  who  owns  it  the  only  answer  is,  "the  Injuns — it's  Injun 
land ;"  that  is,  in  his  estimation,  nobody's  land,  if  he  can  by 
force  or  fraud  get  a  foothold.  If  he  were  told  that  it  was  the 
property  of  John  Johnnycake  or  William  Beaverdam,  or  any 
other  individual,  with  a  patent  title  on  which  he  could  sue  and 
be  sued,  the  case  would  be  very  different  to  him.  A  strong 
party,  therefore,  is  rising  up,  agitating  for  this  reform. 

This  is  the  distinctive  feature  of  the  Ocmulkee  Constitution, 
which  commands  the  support  of  the  best  men  of  the  three  Na- 
tions, and  looks  to  a  union  of  all  the  tribes  under  one  govern- 
ment. It  should  receive  every  legal  encouragement  from  Con- 
gress. But  the  common  people  are  suspicious  of  this  move; 
to  them  sectionizing  looks  like  an  entering  wedge  for  some 
scheme  for  dividing  up  their  lands  among  railroad  corporations 
and  white  immigrants.  And  where  shall  we  look  for  the  real 
power  which  gives  impetus  to  the  movements  lately  inaugurated 


RAILROAD   GRANTS.  427 

looking  to  a  Territorial  Government,  and  the  opening  of  this 
country  to  a  general  immigration  ?  By  the  treaty  of  1866  all 
the  Nations  agreed  to  yield  the  right  of  way,  with  three  hun- 
dred feet  along  the  track,  to  two  railroads,  through  the  country. 
The  roads  which  reached  the  border  first  were  the  Missouri, 
Kansas  and  Texas,  running  southward,  and  the  Atlantic  and 
Pacific  westward.  Look  at  the  charter  of  the  first  road  and  you 
will  find  one  clause  to  the  effect  that  the  road  is  to  receive  every 
section  designated  by  odd  numbers  for  ten  miles  on  each  side 
of  the  track— total  of  sixty-four  hundred  acres  a  mile — with 
these  words  conditional :  "  Provided  said  lands  become  a  part 
of  the  public  lands  of  the  United  States."  The  moment  th°e 
Oklahoma  Bill  becomes  a  law  they  do  become  "  public  lands/' 
and  the  railroad  title  attaches  at  once !  To  the  Atlantic  and 
Pacific  road,  with  its  Van  Buren  branch,  the  grant,  with  the 
same  condition  appended,  is  twenty  sections  to  the  mile.  Be- 
sides these,  two  other  roads  are  pressing  their  claims  for  con- 
tingent grants  with  fair  hope  of  success.  The  present  area  of 
the  Cherokee  country,  exclusive  of  lands  ceded  for  "other 
Indians  to  locate,"  is  about  4,500,000  acres.  The  Missouri, 
Kansas  and  Texas  railroad  runs  through  this  for  eighty  miles; 
the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  railroad  will  rim  about  the  same 
distance.  Considering,  then,  onjy  the  roads  actually  being  built, 
this  gives  them  at  least  1,500,000  acres  I  The  Oklahoma  Bill, 
seventeenth  section  says :  "  The  Secretary  of  the  Interior  shall 
cause  the  lands  in  said  Territory  to  be  surveyed,  and  from  and 
after  such  survey  the  Indian  title  shall  be  deemed  and  held  to 
be  forever  extinguished,  and  the  lands  to  be  public  lands  of  the 
United  States,  subject  to  all  grants  and  pledges  heretofore  made 
by  ads  of  Congress." 

Is  it  difficult  to  see  where  the  motive  power,  and  the  "sinews 
of  war,"  come  from  ?  But  the  territorial  bill  specially  provides 
that  each  Indian  shall  have  a  hundred  and  sixty  acres.  Let  us 
see,  then,  where  the  white  settler  would  come  in.  There  are 
at  least  sixteen  thousand  Cherokecs  entitled  to  "  head  rights," 
and  two  thousand  more  who  can  and  will  claim  them  by  com- 
ing here.  This  takes  up  2,880,000  acres.  Besides,  there  are 


at  TUB 


428  LET   THEM    ALONE. 

reserved  school  lands  and  some  grants  to  mission  stations.  Add 
these  up  with  the  railroad  grants,  and  you  will  find  there  is  not 
quite  land  enough  in  the  Cherokee  country  to  fill  the  bill.  To 
call  it  a  bill  in  the  interest  of  white  immigrants  is  nonsense. 
In  the  Choctaw  country  there  would  be  a  small  surplus — none 
in  the  Creek.  Besides,  in  the  Cherokee  Nation  the  Missouri, 
Kansas  and  Texas  Railroad  runs  right  down  the  Grand  and 
Arkansas  Valleys,  through  the  very  best  land,  but  in  the 
Choctaw  Nation  it  crosses  the  fine  valleys  at  right  angles,  leav- 
ing a  little  more  surplus.  Where,  then,  in  the  northern  part, 
would  the  white  settler  come  in  ?  He  could  buy  of  the  railroad 
at,  perhaps,  five  dollars  or  more  per  acre.  Shall  the  Govern- 
ment revoke  a  fee  simple  deed  and  cover  itself  with  ignominy, 
not  to  benefit  white  immigrants,  but  to  pile  up  mountainous 
fortunes  for  a  few  corporations? 

The  first  fee  simple  patent  to  the  Cherokees  bears  the 
honored  name  of  George  Washington.  Their  patent  for  this 
country,  for  which  they  traded  other  lands  held  in  fee  simple — 
lands  sold  by  the  Government  for  five  times  what  it  paid  the 
Indians — was  signed  by  Martin  Van  Buren,  and  it  cannot  be 
that  their  successor  of  to-day  will  sanction  such  an  act  of  gross 
injustice  and  bad  faith,  so  contradictory  to  his  own  wise  and 
humane  Indian  policy,  which  Ijas  given  him  not  the  least  of 
his  great  claims  to  historic  immortality. 

There  are  a  score  of  reasons  why  a  little  more  time  should  be 
given  the  Indians,  and  why  we  should  not  now  throw  open 
this  country  to  general  settlement.  In  the  first  place,  we  have 
solemnly  agreed  not  to  do  it,  which  is  reason  enough  for  any 
honorable  man.  Secondly,  there  is  no  present  necessity  for  it. 
There  are  countless  millions  of  acres  lying  idle  in  every  State 
and  Territory  north  of  it,  untouched  by  the  cultivator,  and  even 
unoccupied  by  the  herdsman.  There  is  more  unused  land  in 
Kansas  to-day  than  in  the  Indian  Territory.  There  is  room  in 
Nebraska  for  half  a  million  farmers.  There  is  a  tract  in 
Dakota  about  the  size  of  Indiana,  yet  unappropriated,  with  a 
climate  suitable  for  Northern  people,  and  a  most  prolific  soil. 
When  these  are  filled,  and  our  population  really  begins  to  feel 


IT   WILL    NOT   PAY.  429 

crowded,  it  will  be  time  enough  to  trouble  the  Indians ;  and 
long  before  that  time  these  people  will  themselves  vote  to  open 
the  country,  become  like  other  borderers,  and  ask  for  immigra- 
tion to  help  develop  it.  But  with  Kansas  on  one  side  and 
Texas  on  the  other,  with  as  much  or  more  good  land,  it  appears 
to  me  as  if  thousands  are  half  crazy  to  rush  into  the  Indian 
country,  just  because  it  is  forbidden.  If  these  fellows  who 
have  been  harassing  the  Osages,  and  running  across  the  border 
here  and  back  for  the  past  two  years,  had  put  in  the  same 
labor  almost  anyVhere  in  Nebraska,  they  would  have  each 
owned  a  fine  farm  by  this  time. 

In  the  third  place,  to  sectionize  the  country  and  throw  it 
open  on  the  present  plan,  would  do  the  white  borderer  little  or 
no  good.  The  railroads,  of  course,  get  the  first  grab;  their 
land  is  already  secured,  and  in  the  case  of  the  Missouri,  Kansas 
and  Texas  road,  it  would  take  the  very  heart  of  the  country. 
Then  the  Indians,  according  to  their  custom  of  living,  would 
take  all  the  fine  timbered  land  along  the  streams,  and  what 
would  be  left?  Any  prospective  immigrant  can  figure  for 
himself  from  the  statistics  given,  and  he  will  find  that  less  than 
one-fifth  of  the  good  land  would  remain  to  select  from.  A  few 
men  would  secure  fine  farms  unquestionably,  but  for  every 
such  one  twenty  would  be  disappointed.  Several  thousand 
young  men  in  Kansas  are  fooling  themselves  badly  about  this 
country.  There  is  not  so  much  good  land  here  as  they  imagine. 
And  unquestionably,  the  climate  is  unhealthful  for  Northern 
people.  Nor  is  it  for  the  interest  of  Kansas  as  a  State  to  have 
this  country  opened  now.  Her  Senators  should  oppose  it 
strenuously.  If  there  were  half  the  amount  of  good  land  they 
imagine,  Southern  Kansas  would  lose  twenty  thousand  of  her 
people  at  once  by  having  it  opened.  It  is  not  now  a  waste  as 
regards  them.  Before  the  war,  it  was  their  great  region  of 
cattle  trade  and  supply,  and  ere  long  it  will  be  again.  At 
present  we  have  a  National  use  for  the  Indian  Territory. 

Our  true  policy  is  to  secure  these  people  in  their  homes,  and 
make  them  our  agents  to  deal  with  the  wild  tribes  on  the  plains. 
Much  has  been  done  already,  and  more  will  be,  to  set  the  race 


430  ABORIGINAL    HACKS. 

forward  in  civilization.  Half  civilized  and  barbarous  races  are 
slowly  being  reached  through  the  medium  of  their  more  advanced 
brethren.  The  Nations  here  are  already  moving  in  the  matter, 
and  a  little  assistance  only  is  needed  to  enable  them  to  reach 
and  negotiate  with  all  the  wild  tribes  of  Northern  Texas  and 
New  Mexico.  I  am  hopeful  enough  to  believe  that  with  a 
proper  policy  all  the  tribes  in  the  same  latitude,  except  possibly 
the  Apaches,  might  eventually  be  made  citizens  of  this  Territory. 
The  treatment  and  fate  of  aboriginal  races  has  varied  greatly 
under  different  governments.  The  Romans  absorbed  and 
Romanized  when  possible;  otherwise,  they  removed  and  relocated 
them.  When  the  Teutonic  race  overran  Western  Europe,  the 
Celtic  aboriginals  mostly  disappeared ;  but,  in  certain  districts, 
from  special  local  causes,  or  from  a  more  humane  policy  on  the 
part  of  the  conquerors,  remnants  survived  ;  and  in  portions  of 
Scotland,  the  Erse  districts  of  Ireland,  in  Wales,  Brittany  and 
Celtiberia,  are  flourishing  communities  to  this  day,  little  islands 
of  Celts  in  an  ocean  of  Teutons.  We  alone  have  had  no  fixed 
policy  looking  toward  the  saving  and  reclamation  of  any  part  of 
the  native  race.  Writers,  statesmen,  and  theorists  have  made 
haste  to  assume  that  they  were  a  "  doomed  race/7  and  the  Gov- 
ernment has  followed  the  exact  policy  to  practicalize  that  theory. 
We  have  sent  them  our  worst  men  and  most  destructive  prac- 
tices, and  have  systematically  broken  faith  whenever  it  seemed 
profitable  to  do  so.  Here  only  has  a  policy,  something  near 
sensible  and  just  been  pursued,  and  the  results  are  not  discour- 
aging. Let  it  be  improved  and  extended,  and  we  may  reason- 
ably hope  the  Indians  of  all  the  Southern  Territories  may  be 
gathered  here;  that  an  aboriginal  community  of  two  hundred 
thousand  may  grow  into  a  high  civilization;  and  in  due  time  we 
may  have  a  real  native  American  State,  a  progressive  and  pros- 
perous State  of  Oklahoma. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

AROUND   AND   ABOUT   TO   SANTA   FE. 

No  thoroughfare  from  Indian  Territory— Northward  through  Kansas— On  the 
^Plains  at  Last— The  Ride  over  the  Kansas  Pacific— Ellsworth,  and  its  Former 
Felicities — In  the  Buffalo  Country — The  "  Big  Pasture  "  of  America — Arrival 
at  Denver — "  Them's  my  Sentiments " — The  Country  from  Denver  to  Santa 
Fe — A  case  of  Delirium  Tremens. 

•>    6) 

£x-,  ^ 

Y  original  intention  was  thwarted  before  I  left  the  Indian 
Territory ;  for  there  was  no  route  thence  westward  to 
Santa  Fe.  I  went  some  distance  west  of  the  Arkansas, 
*$jl\  6  but  there  were  no  inhabitants  for  two  hundred  miles  from 
the  Creek  border.  Then  Kioways  and  Arapahoes  dom- 
inated all  the  country  for  six  hundred  miles  farther,  before  one 
could  reach  the  Mexican  settlements.  We  might  have  gone  by 
stage  from  the  Canadian  River  to  Fort  Sill,  in  the  southwestern 
corner  of  the  Territory ;  but  from  there  to  Santa  Fe  we  must 
have  depended  on  the  chance  of  a  Government  train,  which 
might  go  in  one  month  or  one  year.  Farther  south  a  regular 
line  of  stages  runs  from  the  end  of  the  Missouri,  Kansas  and 
Texas  Railroad  to  Fort  Concho,  Texas,  connecting  there  with 
another  line  to  El  Paso,  on  the  Rio  Grande ;  but  at  that  season 
we  preferred  a  more  northern  route.  Accordingly  we  turned 
northward  from  the  western  part  of  the  Cherokee  country,  reach- 
ing the  Kansas  border  at  Parker,  terminus  of  the  Lawrence, 
Leavenworth  and  Galveston  Railroad.  The  country  south  of 
there,  which  will  be  traversed  by  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific,  is  of 
the  same  general  character  with  that  I  have  described  about 
Vinita,  consisting  of  gently  rolling  prairie,  with  occasional  strips 
of  not  very  good  timber  and  low  bottoms,  the  latter  quite  rich 
and  the  prairie  of  average  fertility.  One  tolerably  barren  ridge 

431 


432  ON   THE    BORDER. 

is  found,  and  then  the  land  improves  westward  again  toward 
the  Arkansas. 

A  stage  company  now  run  daily  coaches  along  the  State  line 
from  Chetopa  to  the  Arkansas  River ;  and  where  two  years  ago 
they  ran  at  will  over  the  prairie,  they  are  now  confined  three- 
fourths  of  the  way  to  narrow  lanes,  fences  and  improved  farms 
multiplying  in  every  direction.  The  land  seemed  to  improve 
vastly  in  quality  as  we  got  into  Montgomery  County,  as  we 
were  there  upon  the  fine  fertile  slope  leading  down  to  the  Ver- 
digris. Parker  is  only  the  nominal  terminus  of  the  Lawrence, 
Leavenworth  and  Galveston  road,  and  looked  distressingly  dull 
in  spring.  About  a  quarter  section  of  cattle-yards  and  "  shoots  " 
extend  around  the  depot,  and  over  into  the  Indian  country. 
The  town  and  railroad  company  have  purchased  the  right  of 
herding  for  fifteen  miles  over  the  line.  At  the  season  of  live 
stock  exchange  the  place  is  exceedingly  lively.  The  citizens 
were  just  then  in  a  state  of  extreme  disgust  at  the  railroad 
company,  averring  that  the  corporation  had  agreed  to  make  this 
the  terminus  town,  with  all  the  advantages  thereunto  belonging. 
Afterward  they  made  the  real  terminus  at  Coffeyville,  three 
miles  above,  and  now  a  dummy  engine  merely  backs  one  car 
down  to  Parker  on  a  switch.  Two  fine  hotels  are  shut  up,  and 
one  third-class  hasherie  de  Kansaise  poisons  the  unfortunates 
like  us,  who  wander  in  from  the  south. 

Coffeyville  is  only  a  little  better  satisfied.  The  old  town 
happened  to  be  just  three-quarters  of  a  mile  away  from  where 
the  company  concluded  to  put  the  terminus,  and  already  New 
CofFeyville  has  grown  into  a  lively  business  town  of  a  thousand 
or  more  people.  The  three  cities,  in  a  line  of  three  miles,  are 
moving  for  a  consolidation.  Meanwhile  the  railroad  has  pro- 
jected and  built  a  branch  from  Cherry  vale,  twenty  miles  north, 
out  west  to  Independence,  the  county  seat,  and  that  is  now 
freely  spoken  of  as  the  real  terminus.  It  reminds  me  slightly 
of  some  matters  I  have  known  on  the  Union  Pacific  Rail- 
road. 

Four  years  before,  there  were  some  twenty  farms  located  in 
Montgomery  County,  and  one  post-office.  The  county,  in  1872, 


ON   THE    KANSAS    PACIFIC.  433 

cast  a  vote  of  3000,  from  which,  according  to  the  general  ratio 
in  Kansas,  they  argued  a  population  of  12,000 ;  and  there  is 
not  a  valuable  quarter  section  of  land  in  the  county  without  a 
family  or  a  claimant  on  it.  The  first  man  to  settle  in  the  county 
was  a  fearfully  black  and  greasy  negro,  who  lives  just  out  of 
Coifeyville,  on  his  original  claim,  and  when  interviewed  on  the 
rapid  growth  around  him  is  too  much  overcome  to  give  a  con- 
nected account.  Visitors  tell  me  that  along  the  State-line  Road, 
westward,  to  the  Arkansas,  every  quarter  section  has  an  occu- 
pant ;  that  Cowley,  the  new  county  on  that  river,  is  about  full ; 
and  that  the  stream  of  emigration  has  turned  a  little,  and  is 
now  flowing  up  the  Arkansas  and  to  the  northwest. 

Thence  northward  to  Kansas  City,  stopping  at  various  places 
on  the  road,  the  Kansians  thus  summed  up  the  changes  since 
we  left :  "  Fine  chance  o'  corn  planted  an'  doin'  well — splendid 
prospect  for  fruit — peaches  sure  of  a  whalin'  crop ;  but  wheat 
don't  look  well.  In  fact  that  crop  aVt  a  certain  thing  yet  in 
Southern  Kansas.  Garden  spot  o'  the  world,  sir,  no  doubt  of 
it ;  but  wheat  h'ain't  made  a  sure  thing  yet." 

At  midnight  of  May  2d,  we  left  the  State  Line  (of  Missouri) 
for  the  long  ride  across  the  plains.  The  hour  is  inconvenient, 
but  this  is  the  only  through  train.  One  train  leaves  in  the 
morning,  thus  enabling  the  traveller  to  see  Eastern  Kansas  by 
daylight ;  but  it  stops  at  Brookville,  some  distance  west  of  the 
capital,  and  waits  for  the  midnight  train,  when  both  finish  the 
route  together.  This  is  done  to  pass  through  the  buifalo  and  In- 
dian country  in  the  daytime.  The  Kansas  Pacific  is  now  an  old 
road  (for  the  West),  its  business  and  facilities  increasing  steadily, 
and  in  healthy  proportion  with  the  development  of  the  western 
interior.  Its  running  rate  is  a  very  little  less  than  that  of  the 
Union  Pacific,  but  in  all  other  respects,  whether  of  smoothness, 
comfort,  or  elegant  appliances,  it  seems  to  me  to  fully  equal  the 
former  road. 

Before  noon  of  our  first  day  out  I  see  no  signs  of  a  different 

country  from  that  on  the  eastern  border;  timber  is  plenty  along 

the  streams,  the  soil  appears  rich,  and  a  continuous  line  of 

farms  borders  the  road.     We  are  in  the  valley  of  the  Kaw  or 

28 


434  ON   THE    BORDER. 

Kansas,  until  nearly  noon ;  then  leave  it  for  the  Smoky  Hill 
Valley,  after  crossing  Republican,  Big  Blue  and  Solomon's 
Fork.  All  these  "rivers"  furnish  about  enough  water  to  make 
a  stream  like  the  Miami  at  a  moderate  stage.  But  they  have 
wide  and  fertile  valleys,  carrying  the  limit  of  cultivable  land  at 
least  a  hundred  miles  west  of  its  border  on  the  upland,  away 
from  the  streams. 

May  3. — Daylight  found  us  near  Junction  City,  the  last 
point  of  connection  with  any  Eastern  road.  From  that  point, 
the  Missouri,  Kansas,  and  Texas  runs  southwest,  and  down  the 
Xeosho  Valley,  to  Parsons,  in  Southern  Kansas. 

The  railroad  system  of  Kansas  may  be  said  to  develop  north 
and  south  from  the  Kansas  Pacific  as  a  main  stem.  The  Mis- 
souri River  and  Fort  Scott  road  traversing  the  eastern  tier  of 
counties,  the  L.  L.  &  G.,  the  second  tier,  and  the  M.  K.  &  T., 
diagonally  from  the  fourth  to  the  first  tier,  the  northern  coun- 
ties having  a  very  similar  system ;  it  will  be  seen  that  the  rail- 
roads in  Kansas  are  disposed  to  the  best  possible  advantage. 
It  is  a  question  if  the  assembled  wisdom  of  railroad  men  through- 
out the  Union  could  have  devised  a  plan  to  build  the  same 
number  of  miles  of  road,  and  have  them  more  judiciously  dis- 
tributed. There  is  not  a  town  or  considerable  farming  district 
within  a  hundred  miles  of  the  eastern  border,  from  which  one 
cannot  reach  St.  Louis  within  forty-eight  hours  or  less.  We 
find  the  country  pretty  well  settled  for  fifty  miles  west  of  Junc- 
tion City,  with  every  appearance  of  natural  fertility ;  prairies 
of  rich  green,  considerable  bodies  of  timber,  and  a  black,  loose 
soil  wherever  the  sod  is  turned.  We  take  breakfast  at  Ells- 
worth— a  good  one,  too.  When  I  was  out  here  in  October, 
1867,  Ellsworth  was  the  terminus  of  the  road — also  the  ter- 
minus of  something  like  a  hundred  or  two  of  human  lives. 

"Shall  we  have  a  man  for  breakfast?"  was  the  morning 
salutation ;  and  rarely  was  it  answered  in  the  negative.  Ells- 
worth was  the  hardest  of  all  hard  towns  which  flourished  for  a 
day  at  the  end  of  the  railroad.  Mr.  J.  H,  Runkle,  then  Prose- 
cutor  for  the  District,  informed  me,  that  for  ninety-three  days, 
there  was  at  least  one  homicide  a  day  in  the  town  or  vicinity. 


DIED    IN    THEIR    BOOTS/ 


435 


And  yet  in  Ellsworth,  as  in  Cheyenne  in  its  wicked  days,  in  Lam- 
in  ie,  or  any  other  border  town,  a  man  who  had  a  legitimate  busi- 
ness, and  did  not  drink  or  gamble,  was  as  safe,  for  the  most  part, 
as  in  New  York.  Few  take  interest  enough  in  the  "  Statistics 
of  Crime "  to  inquire  what  becomes  of  those  who  are  known  as 
"  roughs"  on  these  Western  roads.  With  very  rare  exceptions 
they  die  young,  and  die  by  violence.  A  new  supply  is  being 
constantly  created,  or  the  class  would  soon  become  extinct. 
From  facts  within  my  own  observation,  I  deduce  the  rule,  that 
the  average  life  of  the  Western 
"  rough,"  after  he  becomes 
known  and  established  as  a 
"rough,"  is  only  four  years! 
Where  are  "  Wild  Bill,"  and 
"Jack  Slade,"  and  "Long 
£teve,"  "Tom  Smith,"  of 
Bear  River,  "Dad  Cunning- 
ham," and  their  compeers  so 
noted  only  five  years  since? 
And  where  will  be  "Wild 
Bill,"  and  "  Tiger  Bill,"  "  Brad. 
Collins,"  and  most  of  their  con- 
fr&res,  in  five  years  more  ?  In 
the  company  of  the  noted 
financier,  who  invented  the 
purase,  "Where  the  woodbine 
twineth;"  or,  it  will  be  said  "MAN  FOR  BREAKFAST." 
in  Western  dialect,  "They 

died  in  their  Boots."  Ellsworth  is  quiet  enough  now.  It  has 
settled  into  a  good,  old-fashioned  country  town,  of  perhaps  a 
thousand  people,  extensively  engaged  in  the  cattle  trade. 

We  are  rapidly  running  out  of  civilization,  but  occasional 
farms  continue  to  about  the  two  hundredth  and  fiftieth  mile- 
post  (from  State  Line),  then  disappear ;  and  evidences  multiply 
rapidly  that  we  are  on  the  "  plains."  The  whole  country,  how- 
ever, is  of  a  beautiful  green,  and  the  grass  appears  as  good  as 
farther  east. 


436  THE   GREAT    PASTURE. 

Our  route  this  afternoon  and  to-night  is  through  the  "  Big 
Pasture"  of  America.  It  extends  from  latitude  52°,  in  British 
America,  to  Texas,  and  has  an  average  width  of  250  miles, 
spreading  eastward  from  the  base  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Say 
in  round  numbers,  1200  by  250  miles,  and  we  have  an  area  of 
300,000  square  miles,  set  apart  by  nature  forever,  as  our  great 
national  park  and  pasture.  Not  one-twentieth  of  this  area  can 
be  settled  and  cultivated  under  any  mode  of  farming  now  known 
in  America.  It  is  too  high  and  dry,  and  the  nights  are  cool 
enough  to  insure  some  frost  nearly  every  month  in  the  year.  At 
the  same  time  it  produces  the  sweetest  and  most  nutritious  of 
grasses. 

More  range  is  required  here  than  in  eastern  pastures  for  the 
same  number  of  stock,  for  the  grass  does  not  renew  itself  the 
same  season,  as  it  does  there;  but  still  here  is  room  for  the 
development  of  incalculable  -wealth  in  flocks  and  herds.  If 
the  reader  will  take  •  a  board,  four  times  as  long  as  it  is 
wide,  lay  it  north  and  south,  and  tilt  it  a  very  little  towards  the 
east,  then  score  it  from  east  to  west  with  a  number  of  furrows, 
he  will  have  a  tolerable  map  or  miniature  copy  of  what  is 
called  the  "  plains."  The  western  border,  the  high  plateau  near 
the  mountains,  has  an  average  elevation  of  5000  feet ;  thence 
eastward  the  general  slope  will  average  ten  feet  to  the  mile ;  so, 
by  the  time  we  reach  the  settled  portions  of  Kansas  and  Ne- 
braska, we  are  but  1000  feet  or  so  above  sea-level.  Going 
westward  you  are  going  uphill  and  nearer  mountains  and  deserts; 
consequently  into  a  dryer  and  colder  country,  and  finally  into  a 
region  fit  for  nothing  but  pasturage.  But  the  notion  once  indus- 
triously circulated,  that  cattle  could  be  wintered  here  without 
feeding,  is  now  abandoned.  Last  winter  pretty  effectually  set  it 
at  rest. 

We  hurry  on,  and  soon  after  noon  enter  the  buffalo  country. 
We  see  but  a  few  live  ones,  for  it  is  too  early  for  their  great 
move  northward ;  but  whole  catacombs  of  the  dead.  For  twenty 
miles  in  one  place,  the  sight  is  awful.  Whole  herds  died  here 
during  the  heavy  snow  of  last  winter.  As  far  as  the  eye  can 
reach,  or  as  a  good  field-glass  can  sweep  the  horizon,  they  lie  at 


THE    BISON. 


437 


IN   THE  BUFFALO   COUNTRY. 


intervals  of  eight  or  ten  rods  apart,  and  in  every  stage  of  decay. 
Some  appear  just  as  they  fell,  almost  entirely  preserved — mum- 
mified as  it  were  by  the  dry  air.  Others  have  shrunk  to  small 
compass  with  the  hide  still  entire,  and  others — by  far  the  larger 
number — are  picked  and  licked  to  clean  white  skeletons  by  the 
wolves.  The  sight  is  sad,  and  sickening.  About  the  stations 
the  skins  are  piled  in  great  heaps  to  dry  for  market,  not  so  bad 
to  the  sight  as  the  other,  but  worse  to  the  smell.  This  region 
of  dead  buffaloes  extends  from  first  to  last,  some  eighty  miles, 
traversing  which  we  saw  many  thousand  of  their  carcasses. 

The  first  live  specimen  was  a  straggler,  which  the  locomotive 
started  out  of  a  circular  hollow.  He  continued  on  the  full  run 
as  long  as  we  could  see  him — an  ungainly  beast.  The  cry  of 
"  buffalo  "  was  followed  by  a  general  rush  of  "  Pilgrims"  to  the 
windows ;  next  came  an  antelope,  then  prairie  dogs,  and  our 
palace  car  company  resembled  rather  a  district  school  at  a 
menagerie  than  anything  else.  We  were  soon  in  the  buffalo 
country  proper,  and  occasionally  saw  small  groups  of  them  at  a 


438  DENVER. 

distance  feeding.  The  heat  had  grown  oppressive,  the  country 
looked  dry,  and  the  grass  had  completely  changed.  Verdure,  as 
farther  east,  was  rarely  seen  ;  the  growth  was  butfalo  grass  and 
gama  grass,  short  and  wiry,  but  very  sweet  and  nutritious. 

Darkness  comes  over  us,  still  fifty  miles  from  the  border  of 
Colorado. 

May  4th. — We  reach  Denver  at  7.20  A.  M.,  and  hasten  to 
the  Broadwell  House,  where  we  are  beset  by  newsboys  with  the 
cry:  "Here's  your  Rocky  Mountain  News — latest  from  Cincinnati 
— Horace  Greeley  for  President."  This  was  news  to  us,  for  pas- 
sengers across  the  plains  lose  one  day's  dispatches  en  route.  The 
usual  political  discussions  enlivened  the  breakfast  room.  Eastern 
arrivals  were  much  excited  about  it,  but  the  Denverites 
appeared  quite  indifferent.  Colorado  cannot  vote  for  President, 
although  she  has  made  three  several  and  earnest  attempts  to 
"  take  her  place,"  etc.  (The  quotation  is  so  old  everybody  can 
finish  it.)  In  fact,  Congress  did  admit  her  once,  but  Andrew 
Johnson  vetoed  her,  creating  a  fearful  mortality  of  incipient 
Congressmen  and  State  officials. 

Byers'  Rocky  Mountain  News  (the  paper  is  scarcely  heard  of 
as  dissociated  with  Byers)  is  the  institution  of  Colorado.  It  has 
survived  fires,  floods,  Indian  blockades  and  Federal  patronage, 
and  survives  to  tell  us  every  morning  at  breakfast  all  of  note 
that  has  transpired  in  any  part  of  the  world  down  to  the  mid- 
night preceding.  It  is,  indeed,  a  monument  of  enterprise, 
whereby  no  disparagement  whatever  is  meant  for  other  journals 
here.  It  is  one  of  the  "curiosities  of  literature"  with  me,  how 
these  mountain  towns  can  support  the  papers  they  do.  Here  is 
Denver,  with  ten  thousand  people,  and  three  dailies.  The  Ter- 
ritory has  six  dailies,  and  some  weeklies,  with  fifty  or  sixty 
thousand  people.  Little  Corinne,  Utah,  with  some  fifteen  hun- 
dred people,  has  kept  up  a  vigorous  daily  for  two  years  and  a 
half.  "  It's  a  wonder  how  they  do  it,  but  they  do." 

May  5th. — I  find  myself  totally  mistaken  as  to  the  location 
of  Denver.  I  had  always  heard  it  was  in  the  mountains,  and 
supposed  we  ran  across  one  chain  before  reaching  here,  and  into 
a  sort  of  basin.  On  the  contrary,  Denver  is  "  on  the  plains,'* 


:"  ifl 


440 


MOUNTAIN   TOWNS. 


GRAY'S  PEAK— COLORADO. 


eighteen  or  twenty  miles  east  of  the  mountains,  though  they 
extend  half  way  around  it  on  the  south,  leaving  it  in  a  broad 
valley,  sloping  toward  the  north. 

Take  half  of  a  wagon-wheel ;  imagine  each  of  the  spokes  a 
pass,  leading  up  southwest  or  northwest,  through  the  mountains 
to  some  mining  region,  and  you  will  have  a  tolerable  idea  of 
Denver  and  its  tributaries.  From  this  place  as  a  center,  first- 
class  turnpikes  lead  up  to  Georgetown,  Central  City,  Black- 
hawk,  Boulder,  and  a  dozen  mountain  towns  of  less  note;  and 
narrow-guage  railroads  are  being  constructed  to  the  most  im- 
portant. 

Denver  has  a  beautiful  location  on  the  slope  at  the  junction 
of  Cherry  Creek  and  the  Platte  River.  Both  are  mere  rivulets 
now,  but  they  occasionally  get  up  in  a  way  that's  rather  fright- 
ful. In  1864  a  freshet  took  away  nearly  all.of  the  town  as  it 
then  stood,  and  the  people  afterwards  built  a  little  farther  up 
the  slope.  The  city  is  an  agreeable  surprise  to  me.  I  had  heard 
so  often  and  so  long,  in  Salt  Lake  City,  that  that  was  the  only 
really  beautiful  city  in  the  mountains,  that  it  had  become  a  part 
of  my  creed,  as  a  man  will  sometimes  absorb  without  question 
what  he  hears  reiterated  for  years.  But  now  I  incline  to  think 


INTELLIGENT    DENVEKITES.  441 

I  should  prefer  Denver,  on  the  score  of  beauty  alone.     The 
advantage  of  Salt  Lake  City  is  that  it  is  twice  as  old,  and  its 
shade  trees,  shrubbery  and  the  like  have  had  more  time  to 
grow.     But  here  we  find  bright  irrigating  streams,  fine  gardens, 
shade  trees,  grass  plats  and  many  fine  residences.     In  the  last 
respect  this  far  exceeds  Salt  Lake.     But  the  noticeable  point  of 
difference  is  in  churches,  school-houses  and  daily  papers.     In 
the  two  former  Denver  will  compare  favorably  with  any  Eastern 
city  of  its  size,  and  in  papers  exceed  most  of  them.     A  hundred 
little  matters  illustrate,  in  a  marked  degree,  the  difference  be- 
tween  this  progressive,  homogeneous  people  and   that  of  the 
Mormon  Capital.     At  the  Post  Office,  of  an  evening,  one  finds 
almost  the  population  of  an  average  Western  city,  and   has  to 
"take  his  turn"  after  long  waiting.    At  Salt  Lake  I  never  saw 
a  crowd  at  the  delivery  large  enough  to  be  troublesome.     From 
the  best  data  at  hand,  I  think  this  office  gives  out  three  times 
as  much  mail  as  that  at  Salt  Lake.    Here  are  a  people  who  read 
and  write,  think  and  question,  deliberate,  examine  and  come  to 
a  conclusion  :  there  a  people  who  open  their  mouths  and  swallow 
what  the  shepherd  gives  them ;  obey  their  Bishop  like  good 
children ;  believe  the  whole  outside  world  to  be  doomed,  and, 
therefore,  don't  want  to  write  to,  or  hear  from  them. 

May  6th. — Three  days  at  Denver  convinced  me  that  it  was 
quite  a  place.  But  why  should  a  journalist,  looking  for  new 
fields,  stop  long  at  Denver?  Is  not  its  history  and  marvelous 
growth  written  in  chronicles  of  every  Western  rambler  for  the 
past  ten  years  ?  And  have  not  Greeley,  Richardson,  Bowles, 
McClure  and  a  score  of  lesser  lights,  exhausted  the  resources  of 
the  dictionary,  in  trying  to  tell  the  simple  truth  about  its  present 
greatness  and  certain  future?  I  can  only  adopt  the  plan  of  the 
conveniently  pfous  young  man,  who  wrote  an  elaborate  prayer, 
posted  it  at  the  head  of  his  bed,  and  when  ready  to  turn  in, 
pointed  at  it  and  said  :  "  Lord,  those  are  my  sentiments  ! "  Now, 
therefore,  read  again  all  that  the  above  worthies  have  said  in 
praise  of  Denver,  and  "Those  are  my  sentiments." 

I  must  cut  short  my  stay  in  Denver,  and  all  on  account  of 
the  weather,  which  is  said  to  be  heating  up  very  fast  down 


442 


TROUBLE   AHEAD. 


GEORGETOWN— COLORADO. 


where  I  am  going.  Bat  when  I  go  to  inquire  about  route  and 
expenses,  though  I  thought  I  knew  something  about  high 
tariffs  in  the  West,  the  intelligence  nearly  takes  my  breath. 

The  distance  is  four  hundred  and  fifteen  miles,  ninety  of 
which  we  go  by  rail,  the  rest  by  stage.  Fare  by  rail  ten  cents 
per  mile,  by  stage  twenty  cents  :  total  to  Sante  Fe,  seventy-four 
dollars,  with  a  dollar  a  meal  on  the  road.  Moral :  Don't  go  to 
Sante  Fe,  unless  you  have  important  business.  From  what  I 
hear  the  rates  are  still  higher  to  where  I  wish  to  go  in  Arizona, 
with  the  comfort  added,  however,  that  in  all  probability  I  can- 
not get  there  at  all,  as  three  drivers  have  just  lately  been  killed 
by  the  Indians. 

Different  parties  are  organizing  with  a  view  of  going  through 
the  center  of  Arizona  and  New  Mexico,  from  Sante  Fe  to  Fort 
Prescott ;  but  all  I  consult  here  shake  their  heads  doubtfully 
on  the  subject.  However,  I  have  generally  observed  in  travel- 
ing that  dangers  lessen  as  one  draws  near  them ;  so  I  will  go 
down  and  hear  what  the  "  Greasers  "  say  on  the  matter. 


"  7TIS   SAD   TO    PART.  443 

May  7th. — At  7.30  A.  M.  I  boarded  the  cars  of  the  narrow 
gauge  Denver  and  Rio  Grande  R.  R. — familiarly  known  here 
as  the  "  Narrow  Gouge"  in  delicate  satire  on  its  rates  of  fare. 
Ten  cents  a  mile  does  look  a  little  steep  for  a  railroad,  but  con- 
sider, that  before  this  was  built  the  tariff  was  twenty  cents  a  mile 
by  stage ;  that  the  road  is  not  assisted  by  grants  or  subsidies ; 
that  the  amount  of  travel  is  too  small  as  yet  to  pay  expenses, 
and  that  the  question  is,  whether  you  are  willing  to  pay  half 
stage  fare  for  the  luxury  of  a  car,  or  go  back  to  the  old  style. 
I  only  wish  I  could  go  all  the  way  to  Santa  Fe  by  such  car- 
riage, for  I  do  dread  the  three  hundred  and  twenty-five  miles 
of  staging. 

At  the  last  moment,  Mr.  De  Bruler  decided  not  to  accom- 
pany me ;  principally  because  I  did  not  know  exactly  where  I 
was  going  myself.  That  the  thirty-fifth  parallel  road  ran 
through  northern  Arizona  we  guessed  from  the  map ;  but  whether 
through  the  Apache  Country,  and  whether  safe  or  the  reverse 
we  could  not  learn ;  nor  whether  I  could  go  through  at  all.  So 
my  journalistic  companion  shook  my  hand  warmly,  and  with 
empressement  thus  pronounced  :  "  Go,  Beadle ;  in  the  interests 
of  science,  and  for  the  honor  of  the  profession.  You  can  risk 
the  savages;  old  bachelors  don't  amount  to  much  anyhow.  But 
I — I  have  a  family."  It  was  too  touching ;  I  dashed  the  saline 
globules  from  my  cheeks,  and  scooted  for  the  depot.  He  wan- 
dered briefly  in  Colorado,  then  returned  to  the  bosom  of  his 
family  and  the  editorial  columns  of  the  Cincinnati  Times  and 
Chronicle;  thence  he  has  transferred  his  brains  to  the  sanc- 
tum of  the  Evansville  Journal,  where  he  flourishes  like  a  green- 
bay  horse. 

I  return  to  my  journal.  "We  journey  at  a  sobre  passo  gait  of 
ten  or  fifteen  miles  an  J^our,  southward  and  up  the  Platte  Val- 
ley, which  has  the  appearance  of  an  old,  settled  and  cultivated 
country.  The  farm-houses  appear  to  me  in  much  better  style, 
and  the  system  of  irrigation  more  scientific  than  in  Utah. 
Farmers  are  plowing,  and  the  spring  crops  are  coming  forward 
finely.  Colorado  wheat  promises  well  this  year.  It  is  con- 
sidered settled  here  that  it  is  the  best  wheat  in  tne  world.  In 


444  SHEEP    REGION. 

Denver,  Colorado  flour  is  $14.00  per  barrel,  while  "  State 
flour"  is  only  $10.00.  About  10  A.  M.,  we  leave  the  Platte 
and  follow  up  a  small  stream  to  the  "  Divide."  Here  we 
are  in  the  lumber  region,  as  shown  by  the  immense  stacks  of 
the  same  about  the  depots.  Singularly  enough,  near  the  "  Di- 
vide," on  both  sides  are  considerable  fields  cultivated  without 
irrigation,  there  being  sufficient  rain  when  one  draws  near  the 
summit  and  the  timber!  The  timber  causes  the  rain,  or  the 
rain  produces  the  timber,  or  the  mountains  are  the  cai&e  of 
both ;  or  some  other  sufficient  cause  accounts  for  all  three,  I 
don't  know  which.  If  this  theory  is  not  scientifically  correct, 
Quien  sabe  ? 

As  soon  as  we  pass  the  summit  and  get  on  the  head -waters 
of  the  Fontaine  Que  Bouille,  we  see  on  all  the  slopes  immense 
herds  of  cattle  and  sheep.  At  Colorado  Springs  lives  one  man 
who  has  13,000  sheep  in  this  region  ;  and  I  am  reliably  in- 
formed there  are  150,000  head  of  stock  in  the  system  of  val- 
leys opening  out  on  this  stream.  The  country  is  evidently  one 
of  the  best  in  the  world  for  sheep.  It  is  high,  dry,  cool  in 
summer,  and  not  very  cold  in  winter,  with  just  moisture  enough 
to  produce  good  grass.  For  about  fifty  miles  we  traverse  a 
beautiful  grazing  region.  At  the  Springs  we  stop  an  hour  for 
dinner.  Here  is  one  of  the  coming  towns  of  Colorado,  having 
a  fine  fertile  valley,  immense  grazing  area,  and  the  noted 
chemical  springs — already  a  great  place  of  fashionable  resort. 

I  am  most  agreeably  surprised  by  southern  Colorado.  There 
is  very  little  desert,  and  except  the  bare  mountains  it  appears 
to  me  a  country  of  great  natural  richness.  The  valleys  are 
very  fertile,  and  most  of  the  slopes  furnish  good  pasturage. 

The  railroad  terminates  at  little  Buttes,  ninety  miles  from 
Denver ;  and  there  we  take  the  stage.  Nineteen  passengers  go 
on  to  Pueblo,  which  we  reach  some  time  after  dark,  and  all 
stop  there  except  Captain  H.  H.  Humphreys,  of  the  Fifteenth 
United  States  Infantry,  his  wife,  his  servant,  and  the  subscriber. 
I  am  the  only  through  passenger,  the  others  go  to  Fort  Union, 
New  Mexico,  and  we  travel  together  some  forty  hours.  A  night 
ride  in  a  coach  is  not  a  subject  for  poetry.  Ours  is  as  com- 
fortable as  the  average. 


PLEASANT  SCHOOLING.  445 

May  8th. — We  breakfast  at  Cocharas,  an  old  style  Mexican 
hacienda,  in  a  beautiful  circular  valley,  seventy  miles  from 
Little  Buttes.  I  am  still  fresh  as  at  starting,  and  make  havoc 
among  the  wheaten-cakes,  fried  eggs  and  chopped  and  stewed 
mutton,  which,  with  coffee,  constitute  our  breakfast:  called 
here,  however,  tortillas,  huevos,  came  and  cafe  respectively.  A 
plump  and  pretty  senorita  sits  by,  and  gives  me  my  first  lesson 
in  Spanish,  with  a  pleasing  variety  of  smiles  and  graceful 
gestures.  She  is  a  most  persistent 
teacher,  and  will  not  rest  till  I  have 
learnt  the  name  of  everything  at  and 
on  the  table,  beginning  with  myself! 
I  am  un  Americano,  also  un  caballero, 
she  ventures  to  hope,  with  a  pleas- 
ing smile,  that  makes  me  perfectly 
willing  to  be  anything  she  wants  me 
to ;  and  when  neither  of  these,  I  am 
simply  un  hombre,  "a  man."  The 
knife  I  eat  with  is  uno  cuchillo,  as  FIRST  LESSON  IN  SPANISH. 
she  writes  it  in  my  book ;  but  by 

some  lingual  gymnastics  they  pronounce  it  coo-chee-o.  My 
chair  is  una  cilia  (see-a),  my  head  is  cabeza  (cah-bayza),  and  she 
wonders  I  have  not  mal  de  cabeza  from  a  night's  ride  en  el  car- 
roza  ;  my  eyes  are  los  ojos  (o-hose),  the  table  is  la  mesa  (may-sa), 
and  she  hopes  we  may  part  amigos. 

"  'T  is  pleasant  to  be  schooled  in  a  strange  tongue 

By  female  lips  and  eyes  ;  that  is,  I  mean, 
When  both  the  teacher  and  the  taught  are  young, 

As  was  the  case  at  times  where  I  have  been." 

We  are  off  for  another  day's  ride,  with  the  celebrated  "Fat 
Jack  "  for  driver.  Ten  years  before  "  Fat  Jack "  lived  on 
Dayton  Street,  Cincinnati,  and  might  have  traveled  as  the 
"Original  living  Skeleton."  Some  unnameable  and  wasting 
disease  had  reduced  him  to  less  than  ninety  pounds  weight. 
He  started  West,  began  to  improve,  reached  New  Mexico,  and 
went  to  driving  stage,  and  now  weighs  two  hundred !  He  is 
five  feet  four  inches  high,  and  four  feet  two  inches  around  the 


446  PASSAGE    OF    THE    RATON. 

waist.  My  essay  at  Spanish  amused  him,  and  he  told  me, 
when  I  reached  Santa  Fe,  to  procure  at  once  una  diccionaria 
dormiente — "  a  sleeping  dictionary ;  "  but  as  he  accompanied 
the  remark  with  a  fearful  facial  contortion,  and  a  poke  in  my 
side  that  nearly  dislocated  a  rib,  I  take  it  he  meant  a  joke, 
though  I  cannot  imagine  where  the  point  is. 

The  morning  air  is  quite  cool,  but  the  afternoon  warm  and 
pleasant.  The  scenery  is  grand.  To  our  right  are  the  Spanish 
Peaks,  in  front  Fisher's  Peak,  of  the  Eaton  Mountains  ;  both 
glistening  white  with  snow.  The  last  named  looks  as  if  it  were 
about  five  miles  distant.  It  is  fifteen  miles  in  a  straight  line — 
measured  by  the  U.  S.  Engineers — from  the  hotel  in  Trinidad, 
at  the  base  of  the  mountains ;  and  we  are  yet  four  miles  from 
Trinidad.  We  reach  that  place,  the  last  town  in  Colorado,  at 
4  P.  M.,  rest  an  hour,  take  supper  and  change  to  a  small,  stout 
uncomfortable  coach,  in  which  to  make  the  passage  of  the  Raton. 
We  reach  the  summit  just  at  dark,  and  have  a  fearful  run  down 
the  southern  side.  Fortunately  we  cannot  see  the  danger,  if 
there  is  any ;  and  have  nothing  to  do  but  bounce  about  in  the 
dark  inside  the  coach,  butt  each  other's  heads,  shift  ballast  to 
suit  the  pitching  of  the  coach,  and  enjoy  ourselves  generally. 
About  midnight  the  jolting  ceases,  and  the  gentler  motion  in- 
dicates that  we  have  come  out  into  a  smooth  valley  and  on  to  a 
good  natural  road.  We  compose  ourselves,  hang  to  the  straps 
and  get  two  or  three  hours  tolerable  sleep. 

May  9th. — About  3  o'clock  this  morning,  we  are  roused  by 
the  driver  with  notice  that  an  important  bridge  has  been  washed 
away,  leaving  only  a  foot-log,  on  which  the  passengers  cross 
while  the  coach  makes  a  circuit  of  some  miles.  Our  party  of 
four  were  soon  on  the  banks  of  the  stream,  and,  by  the  light 
of  a  lamp,  saw  a  fearful  gorge,  crossed  by  one  narrow  log,  while 
fifteen  feet  below  ran  a  stream  strong  enough  to  wash  us  out 
of  sight  in  ten  seconds.  Three  sets  of  passengers  had  already 
crossed  on  that  little  foot-log,  round  and  slippery  as  it  was,  but 
none  of  us  would  venture  on  it.  While  the  driver  threw  the 
lamp  glare  on  the  log,  and  our  party  stood  huddled  together 
gazing  into  the  awful  chasm,  like  a  lot  of  departed  sinners  upon 


ON    THE    CIMARRON.  447 

the  River  Styx,  I  noticed  that  the  banks  were  not  too  steep  for 
descent,  and  so  climbed  down  by  the  aid  of  rocks  and  bushes, 
to  the  water's  edge.  The  other  male  passenger  soon  followed, 
and  we  found  enough  of  the  ruins  to  construct  a  half  floating 
bridge.  An  hour's  labor,  with  the  driver  kneeling  on  the  log 
above  to  light  us  to  our  work,  made  a  bridge  on  which  the 
ladies  succeeded  in  being  helped  across  with  fewer  screams  than 
could  have  been  expected.  A  short  walk  brought  us  to  the 
next  station,  where  the  coach  overtook  us  in  an  hour. 

Daylight  finds  us  at  Maxwell's  Ranche,  or  Cimarron  City,  at 
the  crossing  of  Cimarron  River — a  hundred  and  seventy  miles 
from  where  we  took  stage,  and  still  a  hundred  and  fifty-five 
miles  from  Santa  Fe.  The  night  has  told  heavily  on  us,  and 
we  begin  to  lose  interest  in  external  things.  The  two  ladies 
complain  of  their  heads ;  the  captain  and  I  are  principally  con- 
cerned about  our  stomachs. 

All  this  morning  the  wind  blew  a  small  hurricane,  and  after 
noon  we  had  a  chilly  rain  to  complete  our  misery.  We  break- 
fast at  Maxwell's,  the  center  of  an  old  Mexican  grant  of  several 
hundred  thousand  acres,  for  many  years  the  property  of  a 
noted  mountaineer  by  the  name  of  Maxwell.  The  grant  contains 
fifty  or  sixty  sections  of  the  finest  land  in  New  Mexico,  several 
good  locations  for  water-power,  and  one  rich  gold  mine.  Max- 
well has  lately  sold  it  to  an  English  company,  who  are  bring- 
ing in  machinery  to  work  the  gold  mine,  and  propose  to  im- 
prove the  entire  grant. 

An  hour's  rest  and  a  pint  of  hot  coffee  restored  my  intellec- 
tual balance  somewhat ;  and  I  entered  upon  the  third  day  of 
staging  with  more  vigor  than  I  had  expected. 

At  Fort  Union  my  three  companions  got  out,  and  a  young 
German  got  in  to  go  to  Santa  Fe.  We  had  traveled  the  last 
twelve  hours  in  a  southeast  direction,  leaving  the  main  chain 
of  mountains  some  distance  to  the  west,  and  crossing  the  Rayado, 
Ocate  and  other  tributaries  of  the  Canadian.  The  old  trail 
runs  southwest  from  Huerfano  to  Fort  Garland,  crossing  over 
to  the  headquarters  of  the  Rio  Grande ;  but  the  stage  road  con- 
tinues on  this  line  to  Las  Vegas,  before  turning  westward.  Las 


448  ENTERING   SANTA   FE. 

Vegas  is  a  little  south  of  Santa  Fe,  on  the  extreme  headwaters 
of  the  Pecos  River.  That  city,  which  we  reached  at  dark,  dates 
away  back  to  the  first  Spanish  invasion,  and  has  a  population 
of  three  or  four  thousand.  There  we  took  on  three  United 
States  officers,  and  the  Right  Reverend  John  B.  Lamye,  Bishop 
of  Santa  Fe,  who  exerted  himself  to  cheer  up  the  heavy  hours 
of  the  night,  as  our  coach  labored  through  the  mountain  passes 
down  to  Santa  Fe  River.  The  cold  was  intense,  and  by  the 
morning  light  we  saw  that  a  heavy  snow  had  fallen. 

May  10th. — The  fourth  day  out,  and  I  begin  to  be  oblivious  : 
my  head  pitches  forward  and  back  in  involuntary  "cat-naps" 
of  a  minute  each,  and  I*  long  for  port.  After  four  hours  riding 
down  hill,  by  10  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  snow  had  disap- 
peared ;  once  more  nature  asserted  herself,  and  I  was  really 
feeling  bright  again  when  we  came  in  sight  of  Santa  Fe.  In 
all  my  travels  I  never  remember  being  so  disappointed.  One 
might  pass  within  two  miles  of  the  city  and  miss  it.  It  is  not 
in  the  Rio  Grande  Valley,  as  I  had  supposed,  but  at  least 
twenty  miles  from  that  river,  quite  in  a  hollow;  and  appears  a 
miserable,  low,  flat  collection  of  mud  huts.  Whole  squares  are 
walled  in  with  stones,  mud  and  adobes;  then  the  width  of  a 
house  roofed  around  the  square  on  the  inside ;  partition  walls 
are  built,  passages  cut  through,  and  a  score  of  dwellings  in  one 
group  are  complete.  As  the  coach  rolls  through  the  narrow, 
ugly  streets,  it  looks  more  like  driving  through  a  dirt  cut  in 
some  excavation  than  the  streets  of  a  city.  As  we  near  the 
center  of  town  these  squares  seem  more  compact;  holes  appear 
to  have  been  cut  through,  making  shut  alleys  or  narrow  streets, 
and  other  openings  show  the  interior  of  these  mud-walled 
squares  to  be  a  sort  of  stamping  ground  in  common,  for  pigs, 
chickens,  jackasses,  children,  ugly  old  women,  and  "  Greasers." 

Reaching  the  plaza,  things  look  a  little  better.  There  at 
least  is  a  patch  of  green,  a  tract  grown  up  in  alfalfa  or  Spanish 
clover.  We  stop  at  the  Exchange,  the  only  hotel  in  the  city 
for  white  men,  or  rather  Americans,  the  other  distinction,  though- 
perfectly  accurate,  not  being  well  relished  here.  The  Exchange 
is  a  one-story  square,  like  all  the  rest ;  but  across  the  middle 


IN    A    FIX.  449 

of  the  square  is  a  line  of  buildings  containing  the  dining-room 
and  kitchen,  and  dividing  the  stable  yard  and  poultry  run  from 
the  open  court  for  human  use.  An  arched  way  between  the 
kitchen  and  dining-room  connects  the  fyvo  courts ;  on  the  human 
side  women  and  children  take  their  recreations,  and  men  of 
quiet  or  literary  tastes  can  sit  and  read ;  while  the  stable  side  is 
sacred  to  dog-fights,  cock-fights,  wrestling  matches,  pitching 
Mexican  dollars,  and  other  exclusively  manly  pursuits.  The 
people  of  Santa  Fe  evidently  do  not  take  in  their  philosophy 
the  statement  that  "  Man  was  made  to  mourn/' 

At  the  Exchange  I  left  the  coach,  feeling  almost  comfortable; 
but  no  sooner  did  I  touch  the  pavement  than  the  earth  com- 
menced such  a  rocking  that  I  walked  only  in  circles  and  ellipses, 
traveling  at  least  two  rods  in  advancing  ten  feet.  I  shivered 
with  cold,  and  my  head  and  face  were  scorched  with  heat.  I 
was  desperately  sea-sick.  Grasping  the  casing  I  got  in  at  the 
door,  and  felt  my  way  to  the  lounge  near  the  stove,  for,  though 
it  was  bright  sunshine,  the  weather  was  cold.  I  sank  on  the 
lounge  and  in  five  seconds  was  oblivious.  In  two  hours  I 
awoke  with  the  delirium  tremens.  Seriously,  though  I  had  not 
tasted  liquor  for  months,  I  had  all  the  premonitory  symptoms 
of  that  terrible  disease.  The  figures  on  the  wall  scowled  at 
me;  the  illuminated  Saint  over  the  mantel  looked  sick  at  rny 
prospects;  and  a  great  grinning  demon,  top-ornament  to  an  old 
Spanish  wall-sweep  clock,  seemed  to  snap  his  fingers  and 
wriggle  with  delight  at  my  misery.  I  had  sense  enough  left 
to  know  I  should  lose  my  senses  if  this  thing  continued  long, 
so  I  took  to  the  street  again.  But  there  everything  was  un- 
settled. The  distant  mountains  wabbled,  the  houses  were  turn- 
ing topsy-turvy,  "Greasers"  grinning  and  rolling  apparently 
in  every  direction,  while  the  serioritas  seemed  to  go  sideways  or 
on  their  heads,  waltzing  along  the  narrow  streets  in  most  im- 
moral attitudes.  Worst  of  all  was  a  horrible  feeling  about  my 
stomach,  as  if  millions  of  insects  were  crawling  from  there  up 
to  my  head ;  and  a  sensation  of  pitching  backward  and  forward, 
feeling  as  if  my  head  were  unscrewed,  loose,  and  liable  at  any 
moment  to  be  jerked  off. 
29 


450 


DELIRIUM   TREMENS. 


I  was  put  to  bed  and  a  doctor  sent  for.  The  old  Mexican  M.  D. 
(I  should  say  these  words  in  his  case  stood  for  "  miserable  devil ") 
came,  felt  my  pulse,  temples  and  feet,  grunted  professionally,  and 

made  his  diagnosis  in  these  words : 
"Caraja!  Tres  dies  y  noches  en 
carroza  !  Mai  de  cabeza  y  desar- 
reglio  de  los  nervios!"  I  as- 
sented, and  he  gave  me  twenty 
drops  of  laudanum  as  a  starter, 
followed  every  hour  or  so  by 
belladonna,  hyosciamus,  et  oL 
At  dark  I  went  to  sleep,  slept 
eleven  hours  without  waking,  and 
next  day  was  all  right.  Moral : 
Don't  try  to  go  eighty  hours  with 
only  nine  hours'  sleep,  if  you  have 
a  sensitive  nervous  systeui;  for 
if  you  do,  you  are  likely  to  make 
the  acquaintance  of  "the  man 
with  the  poker  "  without  the  fun 
of  the  preparatory  sprees. 

I  was  "in  port"  for  a  while, 
after    going    fourteen     hundred 

miles  around  the  three  sides  of  an  immense  parallelogram  to 
come  on  the  thirty-fifth  parallel  line  again,  to  wit :  from  Indian 
Territory  to  Kansas  City  north,  thence  to  Denver  west,  and 
thence  to  Santa  Fe  south. 


CARAJA  !     LOS  NERVIOS 


p> 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

SANTA   FE   DE   SAN   FRANCISCO. 

First  impressions— Location  of  the  city— U.  S.  officials— Learning  Spanish— The 
j?cu7e  — Valse  da  Spachio  —  Mexican  Law  —  Religion  —  Children  —  Dark  vs. 
white  races — Mexican  transportation — Historical — Remarkable  journey  of  De 
Vaca  and  his  companions— Expedition  of  Coronado — "The  seven  cities  of 
Cibola" !— "  The  American  occupation  " — Query. 

ANTA  FE  DE  SAN  FRANCISCO— so  the  old  Span- 
iards named  it — is  a  high  old  city :  seven  thousand  feet 
high,  and  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  old.  A  dry, 
hard,  worn  out,  and  most  uninviting  place,  too,  it  ap- 
pears to  me ;  but  any  place  with  water,  shade  and  beds 
is  a  haven  to  me  since  my  stage  trip  from  Colorado.  That  was 
an  experience  I  hope  never  to  repeat ;  for,  if  I  have  so  long  a 
trip  hereafter,  I  shall  divide  it  into  sections  ot  a  hundred  miles 
or  so  each. 

Santa  Fe  has  been  a  city  inhabited  by  white  men  for  two 
hundred  and  fifty  years  ;  and  nobody  knows  how  long  before  by 
Pueblo  Indians,  one  of  their  old  cities,  or  the  ruins  of  it,  being 
partly  on  the  same  site.  In  the  latitude  of  Memphis,  it  has  a 
summer  climate  cooler  than  that  of  Canada,  and  that  of  1872 
was  an  exceptionally  cold  spring.  Except  from  10  o'clock  till  4, 
fires  were  agreeable  in  the  hotel,  and  heavy  bedclothes  were  in 
order  with  me.  A  suit  of  summer  clothing  is  rarely  seen  in 
Santa  Fe.  There  are  not  ten  days  in  the  year  when  they  are 
really  needed.  The  winters  are  mild  and  dry ;  snow  rarely 
falls,  and  the  range  of  the  thermometer  is  about  equal  to  that  of 
Washington  City.  The  city  is  in  the  narrow  valley  of  Santa 
Fe  River,  on  a  gentle  slope,  seven  thousand  five  hundred  feet 
above  sea-level.  Just  northeast  of  the  city^  though  thirty  miles 

451 


452 


BAD    LOCATION- 


SIDE   OF   PLAZA — SANTA  FE. 

distant,  "Old  Baldy,"  a  mountain  peak,  rises 'five  thousand  feet 
higher,  its  summit  covered  with  snow  ten  months  in  the  year. 
The  climate  is  claimed  to  be  the  finest  in  America,  and  unques- 
tionably it  is  the  most  even  and  least  liable  to  sudden  changes ; 
but  to  me  it  seemed  a  little  too  cool  in  May.  All  this  was  a 
surprise,  as  I  had  somehow  got  the  idea  Santa  Fe  was  in  a  hot 
climate.  For  incipient  pulmonary  complaints  it  is  the  best 
obtainable;  those  in  advanced  stages  of  consumption  die  very 
suddenly  here. 

The  town  is  totally  unlike  what  I  expected.  It  is  poor  and 
meanly  built  of  one-story  mud  huts,  the  whole  place  covering 
perhaps  eighty  acres.  It  is  in  a  narrow  side  valley,  completely 
out  of  the  range  of  any  through  line  of  railroad  ;  the  Thirty-fifth 
Parallel  road  must  run  some  distance  south  of  it,  and  I  question 
very  much  if  either  of  the  roads  from  Colorado  will  touch  it. 


"DRY!"  453 

In  fact,  any  road  to  reach  Santa  Fe  must  really  run  past  it,  and 
then  turn  back  up  the  side  valley  to  come  at  it. 

The  streets  and  walls  are  inexpressibly  dreary ;  the  dwellings 
low,  flat  and  uninviting.  I  don't  think  there  are  twenty  two- 
story  houses  in  the  city.  The  residences  of  some  of  the  officials 
display  a  little  taste ;  two  or  three  of  the  merchants  have  houses 
with  pretty  surroundings,  and  Bishop  Lamye  has  a  place  which 
would  almost  be  considered  pretty  in  Ohio.  I  saw  perhaps  a 
dozen  gardens ;  all  the  rest  of  the  view  is  bare,  gray  and  dried 
mud  color.  As  I  stood  of  an  evening  on  the  hill  above  town, 
and  looked  on  the  mean  and  dirty  streets,  filled  with  donkeys 
carrying  hay  and  wood  in  Mexican  fashion,  and  saw  the  gangs 
of  natives  swarming  among  their  mud  walls,  and  the  lifeless 
looking  women  squatted  in  the  open  courts,  I  could  but  ask : 
Is  this  the  Santa  Fe  of  which  I  have  heard  and  read  since 
childhood?  The  place  where  the  Missouri  traders  used  to  go, 
in  those  long  caravans  which  furnished  subjects  of  brilliant 
illustrations  in  our  story  books ;  where  they  sold  millions  in 
goods  and  brought  back  riches  beyond  estimate  ?  If  this  is  the 
place,  it  has  sadly  changed.  There  are  not  fifty  houses  there 
that  would  be  allowed  to  stand  a  day  in  Cincinnati.  They  say 
they  have  a  population  of  six  thousand,  but  I  don't  see  where 
they  put  them.  Perhaps  these  mysterious  hollow  squares,  with 
so  many  dark  holes  and  corners,  are  more  densely  populated 
than  I  imagine  possible.  And  yet  here  are  old  withered  Mexi- 
cans, native  to  the  place,  whose  fathers  and  grandfathers  were 
born,  lived  .and  died  in  this  valley;  for  Santa  Fe  was  a  noted 
Spanish  city  one  hundred  years  before  our  John  Cleves  Symmes 
crossed  the  Ohio.  Yes,  Santa  Fe  has  one  merit — it  is  rich  in 
historic  interest. 

The  number  of  whites  not  of  Spanish  origin  is  estimated  at 
five  hundred.  At  the  last  election  three  hundred  non-Mexican 
whites  voted,  and  as  there  are  some  twenty  families  with  many 
boarders  and  servants,  the  total  number  is  put  as  stated.  Of 
these  the  officials  and  their  families  constitute  the  first  division. 
Until  I  made  their  acquaintance  I  felt  somewhat  lost,  for  after 
novelty  wears  off,  Santa  Fe  is  but  a  dull  place. 


454  OFFICIALS. 

Governor  Marsh  Giddings,  appointed  from  Michigan,  entered 
upon  his  duties  in  August,  1871.  I  found  him  a  most  pleasant 
gentleman,  though  the  "opposition  "  are  just  now  attacking 
him  fiercely  for  his  activity  in  the  movement  for  a  State  organi- 
zation. 

United  States  District  Attorney  T.  B.  Catron  is  from  Mis- 
souri, and  a  fluent  speaker,  both  in  English  and  Spanish.  Hon. 
Henry  Wetter  was  then  Secretary,  though  another  has  suc- 
ceeded. Joseph  G.  Palen,  Chief  Justice,  also  came  in  for  a 
heavy  share  of  abuse  from  the  opposition.  Associate  Justice 
Hezekiah  S.  Johnson  is  a  resident  of  Albuquerque.  The  other 
Justice's  place  was  vacant,  Judge  Bristol,  of  Minnesota,  having 
been  appointed  but  not  yet  entered  the  Territory.  The  other 
offices  are  filled  by  Mexicans,  and  it  is  a  source  of  wonder  to  me 
that  there  is  so  little  conflict  of  jurisdiction  here,  with  all  these 
differences  of  race  and  religion.  New  Mexico  is  politically  the 
most  quiet  of  all  the  Territories,  and  instead  of  the  ever- 
recurring  religious  squabbles  of  Utah,  or  the  internecine  strifes 
of  Dakota,  these  people  seem  always  satisfied  with  what  the 
officials  do,  if  it  is  within  a  hundred  degrees  of  right.  They 
consider  a  Governor  as  only  one  remove  below  the  Deity ;  or, 
rather  two  removes,  the  Virgin  Mary  coming  next,  and  the 
Governor  being  about  on  the  same  degree  with  St.  Peter.  To 
one  like  myself,  accustomed  to  the  studied  contempt,  or  lordly 
indifference,  or  good-natured  and  irreverent  bonhommie,  with 
which  Territorial  Governors  are  regarded,  respectively  in 
Utah,  Colorado  and  Dakota,  it  was  something  amusing  to 
witness  old,  gray-headed  men,  with  hat  removed,  bowing  low  to 
Governor  Giddings,  and  to  hear  the  seiloras  direct  their  chil- 
dren as  he  passed,  "No  hable  uste  tanto.  El  Gobernador!" 
All  these  people,  no  matter  of  what  rank,  are  excessively 
polite. 

General  Gordon  Granger,  commanding  this  department,  re- 
sides here,  and  with  the  officers  on  duty,  adds  not  a  little  to  the 
American  society.  Attached  to  headquarters  is  one  of  the  finest 
bands  I  ever  listened  to,  which  plays  in  the  plaza  every  after- 
noon, furnishing  the  Santa  Fe  public  with  a  splendid  musical 


"HAY  BAILE."  455 

entertainment,  and  with  all   these  helps,  life  after  a  few  days 
did  not  seem  to  me  quite  so  insupportable  as  at  first. 

Next  to  the  officials  come  the  merchants,  nearly  all  of  whom 
are  Jews.  There  are  ten  extensive  firms  here,  and  last  year  a 
million  dollars  worth  of  goods  were  sold.  Besides  these,  there 
are  clerks,  agents  of  two  stage  companies,  two  hotel  keepers, 
and  perhaps  fifty  "floaters,"  making  up  the  American  popula- 
tion. I  was  pleased  to  meet  there  Major  Nash,  formerly  of 
Cincinnati,  but  now  chief  commissary  of  this  department,  who 
took  me  in  and  did  me  good. 

But  my  acquaintance  in  Santa  Fe  was  of  quite  a  miscellane- 
ous character — "from  the  duke  to  the  dustman."  I  took  a 
Spanish  teacher  (male),  and  the  third  day  of  my  studies  "inter- 
viewed" him  thus: 

"  Hay  baile  esta  noche,  Scnor  !  " 

"  Sij  Senor,  qmere  uste  avenir  ?     Habra  Senoritas  bonitas" 

"  Eso  quisiera  yo." 

The  result  of  this  attempt  at  Castilian  was  a  visit  to  that 
evening's  baile  (by-lay) ,  or  Mexican  dance.  Americans  impro- 
perly call  them  fandangoes,  applying  the  name  of  one  kind  of 
dance  to  the  whole  proceeding — as  if  one  should  call  an  Ameri- 
can ball  a  "  schottische."  They  are  the  national  amusement. 
All  new-comers  of  importance  are  welcomed  with  a  public  ball, 
and  all  public  enterprises  are  inaugurated  and  ended  by  the 
same. 

Scene:  A  long  room,  wide  enough  for  one  cotillion  and  long 
enough  for  half  a  dozen  ;  a  raised  platform  for  a  first-class 
string  band,  and  a  chair  at  the  other  end  for  la  maestra  (femin- 
ine) of  ceremonies,  with  seats  ranged  against  the  wall  for  fifty 
or  a  hundred  spectators.  The  Mexican  girls  are  exceedingly 
graceful,  with  very  small  hands  and  feet  and  most  enchanting 
voices ;  but  their  features  are  not  handsome,  being  dark,  in  the 
first  place,  besides  having  an  indescribable  something  which  I 
imagine  I  can  see  in  all  dark  races,  and  which,  for  want  of  a 
term,  I  call  dormant  tigerishness.  As  dancers  they  cannot  be 
excelled.  They  never  have  the  set  "called,"  as  in  the  States, 
dancing  being  too  much  a  lifetime  affair  with  them — something 


456 


DANCES. 


AT  THE  BAILE. 


they  learn  as  soon  as  they  can  walk.  Their  cotillions  an* 
very  complicated.  The  common  waltz,  about  the  same  as  ours, 
is  known  as  the  Valse  Redondo.  But  the  National  dance — the 
one  which  shows  the  Mexican  woman  to  the  best  advantage — 
is  the  Valse  de  Spachio,  which  might  be  translated  "slow 
waltz."  The  music  is  slow  and  seemingly  mournful,  but  the 
elegant  movement  cannot  be  described.  The  first  figure  might 
be  called  a  "  waltzing  cotillion/7  ending  with  two  lines,  each 
senorita  opposite  her  partner.  Thence  she  advances  toward 
him  with  a  score  of  graceful  gestures — bowing,  sinking,  rising, 
extending  hands  and  again  clasping  them  and  retreating,  wav- 
ing scarf  or  handkerchief,  and  all  in  perfect  time  and  without 
faulty  or  ungraceful  motion.  At  length,  and  apparently  fol- 


PUBLIC   BALLS.  457 

lowing  the  motion  of  the  "head  lady,"  the  couples  come  rapidly 
together,  and,  as  the  music  breaks  suddenly  into  a  lively  air, 
are  whirled  to  all  parts  of  the  room  in  quick  gallopade.  This 
again  subsides,  and  they  waltz  back  into  a  sort  of  hollow  square, 
from  which  each  lady  in  turn  issues  and  makes  the  circuit  of 
the  sett  in  slow  waltz,  tantalizing  different  cavaliers  with  feint 
and  retreat.  It  looks  childish  on  paper,  but  is  enchanting  to 
witness. 

There  seems  to  be  no  distinction  at  these  public  balls  on  the 
score  of  character.  The  social  indifference  on  that  subject 
would  astonish  most  Americans.  If  the  Stantons,  Anthonys, 
etc.,  are  really  in  earnest  in  the  statement  that  "  woman  should 
have  no  wo  se  stigma  than  a  man  for  sexual  sins,"  they  would 
certainly  be  gratified  here,  for  the  disgrace  is,  at  least,  as  great 
to  one  sex  as  the  other.  Indeed,  I  think  the  general  judgment 
for  marital  unfaithfulness  is  much  more  severe  on  a  man  than 
a  woman.  The  young  Americans  bring  their  mistresses  to  the 
baile  with  the  same  indifference  the  Mexicans  do  their  sweet- 
hearts. These  "  girls  "  are  scrupulously  polite,  and  so  unlike 
the  same  class  in  the  States,  that  it  can  only  be  accounted  for 
from  the  fact  that  they  see  no  disgrace  whatever  in  their  mode 
of  life,  and  feel  no  sort  of  social  degradation. 

One  witnesses  no  drunkenness,  no  obscene  word  or  gesture, 
nothing  to  offend ;  and  the  uniform  testimony  of  the  American 
youths  is,  that  they  are  the  most  faithful,  kind  and  affectionate 
women  of  that  class  in  the  world.  Without  chastity,  they  still 
possess  all  the  other  distinctive  virtues  of  the  sex.  The  force 
of  an  improving  public  opinion  has,  in  the  last  five  years, 
caused  many  marriages  between  such  couples,  and  the  civil,  or 
old  Roman  law,  prevailing  here,  legitimates  all  their  issue,  no 
matter  how  old  at  the  time  of  marriage. 

Speaking  of  law,  the  Mexicans  cling  tenaciously  to  all  their 
old  customs  in  the  administration  of  justice.  They  stipulated 
for  this  at  the  American  occupation,  and  General  Kearney,  by 
proclamation,  continued  all  their  judicial  officers  with  the  same 
code.  So  the  matter  grew  into  a  prescription  which  can  not  be 
changed  ;  and  as  the  givil  or  canon  law  was  in  force  in  all 


458  PARENTAL  LAW  IN   NEW  MEXICO. 

Spanish  America,  it  is  the  common  law  of  New  Mexico  to-day. 
Under  it  the  power  of  parents  is  practically  almost  without 
limits — no  matter  what  age  their  offspring  may  be.  A  son  who 
lives  with  his  mother  is  subject  to  her  orders  always,  and  the 
alcalde  in  rural  districts  is  occasionally  called  upon  by  a  woman 
whose  "  boy "  of  twenty-five  or  thirty  has  rebelled.  In  such 
cases  the  alcalde  goes  with  his  constable,  arrests  the  "  boy,"  puts 
a  riata  into  the  hands  of  the  mother  and  bids  her  lay  on  until 
the  youth  roars  for  mercy.  Sometimes  a  scnorita  living  with 
an  American  is  whipped  by  her  mother  for  some  want  of  atten- 
tion or  proper  conduct  toward  herself  or  the  mari,  and  though 
he  protests,  the  mother  asserts  her  right.  They  even  claim  that 
if  a  father  chose  to  kill  his  child,  the  law  would  allow  it;  but 
I  am  certain  no  test  case  could  arise,  as  in  general  these  people 
seem  to  me  the  kindest  and  most  indulgent  of  parents  to  their 
small  children.  It  is  impossible  to  convey  in  English  an 
adequate  idea  of  the  long  drawn-out  and  musical  endearatives 
and  diminutives  in  which  their  language  abounds :  Povrita  mia, 
muy  bonita,  dulce  Huanita,  mucha  preciosa  mucha-chita,  ("  My 
poor  little  one,  dearest  one,  my  sweet  little  John,  most  precious 
little  girl").  This  climate  is  said  to  be  the  best  in  the  world 
for  childhood,  and  their  children  are  peculiarly  bright  and 
lively,  but  not  handsome,  unless  for  those  who  admire  dark 
beauty,  which  I  do  not.  After  wandering  for  hours  among  the 
narrow  streets  and  adobe  squares,  when  I  got  into  the  officials' 
part  of  the  town,  the  few  little  American  children  looked  like 
little  angels,  with  their  clear  blue  eyes,  soft  light  hair,  and  clear 
Saxon  complexion. 

Did  you  ever,  as  you  looked  upon  a  dark  face  in  the  street, 
think  for  a  moment  what  it  would  be  to  spend  your  whole  life 
among  people  of  that  color?  Until  I  made  a  long  journey 
without  sight  of  a  white  man  I  could  not  appreciate  the  condi- 
tion of  missionaries  and  captives  among  dark  races,  I  thought 
only  of  the  physical  evils  of  their  lot.  But  what  a  wearing 
grief  it  must  in  time  come  to  be  never  to  look  upon  a  fair  face; 
never  to  press  the  soft  brown  tresses,  or  feel  the  touch  of  a 
pink  baby  hand ;  never  to  trace  the  blue  veins  of  a  Saxon  fore- 


"PRETTY  SQUAWS."  459 

head,  or  hear  the  sweet  music  of  childish  English.  Keep  a 
man  among  Mexicans  or  Chinese  a  few  years,  and  I  think  -he 
would  fall  in  love  with  the  first  white  lady  he  saw. 

"  Pretty  squaws  "  we  often  hear  of,  and  I  have  seen  some  of 
those  called  so ;  but  it  was  a  beauty  only  in  the  sense  of  phy- 
sical proportion.  Barbarous  people  are  never  really  beautiful ; 
and  where  women  are  freest,  there  most  beauty  is  found.  Our 
ladies  are  the  queens  of  beauty  throughout  the  world ;  and  after 
due  inspection  of  a  dozen  races  I  conclude :  Let  others  take 
what  course  they  may,  but  give  me  an  American  woman  or  give 
me  death. 

Such  blessings  at  home  are  like  air  and  sunlight,  so  common 
that  we  never  think  how  much  of  our  daily  life  they  make ; 
but  it  seems  to  me- if  I  had  lived  a  few  years  exclusively  with 
Mexicans  or  Chinese,  I  would  walk  a  hundred  miles  to  see  and 
talk  with  a  few  Saxon  children,  such  as  are  seen  in  thousands 
upon  our  streets.  Yes,  we  may  occasionally  feel  that  the  claims 
of  civilization  bear  heavily  on  us ;  but  it  is  philosophically  as 
well  as  poetically  true : 

"  Better  fifty  years  of  Europe 
Than  a  cycle  of  Cathay." 

I  got  on  famously  with  my  Spanish.  My  partial  friends 
used  to  tell  me  that  I  had  "  a  head  for  languages,"  and  I  am 
confident  Spanish  can  be  learned  by  any  one  in  less  than  half 
the  time  required  for  French  or  German.  Consider  these  points 
in  its  favor :  no  nasals,  no  gutturals,  no  silent  letter  (except, 
perhaps,  the  initial  A),  no  sibilants,  except  those  we  have  in 
English,  and  a  uniform  sound  in  every  combination.  I  thought 
it  best  to  learn  enough  for  ordinary  purposes  before  attempting 
to  go  through  Arizona.  But,  strange  to  say,  there  are  men  who 
have  been  among  them  ten  years  and  do  not  understand  the 
language.  Language  has  a  strange  similarity  to  music  in  that 
respect.  Some  of  the  most  acute  and  intelligent  men  can  not 
distinguish  a  tune,  and  could  not  by  any  possibility  acquire  a 
foreign  tongue.  Some  funny  mistakes  occur  in  consequence. 
An  Irishman  lately  established  a  wayside  hotel  near  Albuquer- 
que, and  was  often  "done  out  of  a  day's  board"  by  impecunious 


460  AN   ENRAGED   IRISHMAN. 

Mexicans,  until  he  became  suspicious.  One  day  there  arrived 
a  doubtful  looking  "  Greaser,"  who  saluted  with,  "  Como  ustay, 
Senor  f  "  (How  do  you  do  ?) 

"  You've  come  to  stay,  have  you?"  says  Pat%  "  We'll  see  about 
that.  Got  any  money  to  pay  your  board  ?  " 

"  No  intenday,  Senor."     (I  don't  understand.) 

"  You  don't  intend  to  pay  !  D — n  you,  git  out  o'  this," — 
and  he  kicked  the  unfortunate  Mexican  into  the  street. 

A  Federal  official  came  to  Santa  Fe  with  half  a  dozen  as- 
sorted phrases,  which  he  thought  sufficient  to  carry  him  through 
ordinary  business.  Entering  a  restaurant  he  did  not  know 
what  to  call  for.  At  length  he  saw  on  the  wall  a  rude  picture 
of  a  dove,  representing  the  Holy  Spirit,  such  as  is  common  in 
Catholic  countries,  which  he  took  to  be  a  sign  for  some  game 
fowl,  and  asked  :  "  Como  se  llama  eso  ?  "  (Whajt  is  that?)  "  Un 
Espiritu  Santo,  Senor"  (A  Holy  Spirit,  sir,)  replied  the  waiter. 
"  Da  me  dos  Espiritus  Santos  muy  cursos"  (Give  me  two  Holy 
Spirits  well  done,)  requested  the  official,  to  the  great  horror  of 
the  devout  Mexican. 

The  people  are  so  polite  that  one  rarely  knows  if  he  has 
made  a  mistake.  They  compliment  every  step  of  progress,  and 
if  one  pronounces  within  a  hundred  degrees  of  right,  exclaim  : 
"  Muy  buenoy  Senor,  muy  claro  Castilliano." 

Take  them  all  in  all,  they  are  a  strangely  polite,  lazy,  hospit- 
able, lascivious,  kind,  careless  and  no  account  race. 

Their  total  lack  of  enterprise  shows  in  the  most  ludicrous 
ways,  but  most  in  their  style  of  transporting  everything  on  the 
backs  of  asses.  I  saw  but  one  Mexican  wagon  in  the  citv,  and 
that  had  broken  down.  About  the  streets  are  seen  droves  of 
jackasses  of  a  very  small  breed,  some  with  bundles  of  hay  or 
straw  strapped  on  their  backs,  others  with  stove  wood  stacked 
up  on  each  side,  reaching  from  the  ground  to  a  foot  above  the 
back  and  tied  on  with  raw  hide — a  regular  perambulating 
wood-yard.  Occasionally  one  loses  his  balance  or  trips,  and 
goes  over  on  his  back.  Then  he  can  not  get  up  until  unloaded. 
I  saw  one  get  down  in  the  Santa  Fe  river;  and  having  enjoyed 
the  cool  bath  and  freedom  from  his  burden,  he  refused  to  rise 


AN   OVERBURDENED   DONKEY.  461 

when  unloaded.  A  withered  old  senora  was  belaboring  him 
with  a  musical  accompaniment  of  "  caramba  !  por  Dios  !  va 
maladitto!"  and  adjuring  all  the  saints  in  the  Litany,  ending 
with  a  vigorous  thwack  on  his  head  and  a  direct  appeal  to  Saint 
Anastasia,  who  is  supposed  to  have  a  peculiar  power  over  refrac- 
tory mules.  But  the  heterodox  beast  shook  his  long  ears  lazily, 
and  exhibited  a  most  Protestant  contempt  for  the  whole  saintly 
outfit.  As  I  passed  on  she  had  called  to  her  assistance  a 
nwtehacho,  who  was  spearing  the  donkey  along  the  back-bone 
with  a  ferule-cane  with  some  promise  of  success.  All  the 
timber  from  the  mountains  is  brought  into  the  city  by  this 
method,  and  one  often  sees  a  drove  of  donkeys,  each  with  a 
heavy  joist  on  each  pannier,  projecting  ten  feet  beyond  his  head 
and  dragging  on  the  ground  behind  him.  One  morning  I 
noticed  a  miserable  little  burro,  no  bigger  than  a  good-sized 
ram,  staggering  under  an  entire  bedstead,  piled  up  and  strapped 
together  on  his  back  ;  and  another  with  an  immense  trunk 
strapped  "  cut-angular  "  from  his  left  hip  to  his  right  shoulder. 
They  are  the  wealth  of  the  poorer  class,  and  when  the  house- 
hold donkey  dies  a  Mexican  family  goes  into  bankruptcy. 

But  to  an  antiquarian — and  I  have  that  taste  a  little  too 
strong  for  a  brief  chronicler — Santa  Fe  is  a  most  delightful 
place.  All  sorts  of  valuable  documents,  bearing  on  the  early 
history  of  the  West,  are  in  the  archives,  and  I  only  regretted 
that  my  time  for  digging  among  them  was  so  short.  Here,  for 
instance,  is  the  official  report  of  Don  Francisco  Vasquez  Coro- 
nado,  who  left  the  city  of  Mexico  three  hundred  and  thirty 
years  ago,  with  a  commission  from  the  Viceroy  Mendoza,  and  a 
large  body  of  troops,  to  find  and  conquer  "  The  country  of 
Cibola,  and  the  Seven  Cities."  He  traversed  Southern  Cali- 
fornia, Arizona,  New  Mexico  and  Northwestern  Texas;  gave 
the  mountain  peaks  and  rivers  the  names  they  bear  to-day,  and 
added  to  the  Spanish  Empire  an  area  twelve  times  the  size  of 
Ohio — eighty  years  before  the  Pilgrims  sailed  from  Holland. 
And  here  is  the  original  journal  and  narrative  of  Castenada,  a 
private  soldier  with  Coronado,  who  accompanied  that  army  in 
its  movements  for  five  years.  Also,  the  autobiography  of  Yaca, 


462  HISTORY. 

a  companion  of  Narvaez,  who  was  wrecked  from  the  former's 
fleet  of  boats,  on  the  coast  of  Texas,  and  passed  from  tribe  to 
tribe  all  the  way  thence  to  the  Colorado,  escaping  at  the  end  of 
ten  years  to  the  city  of  Mexico.  And  these  are  not  romances,  but 
for  the  most  part  veritable  history,  as  well  authenticated  as  the 
history  of  Massachusetts.  Here  is,  indeed,  a  delightful  field 
for  the  antiquarian. 

Alvar  Nunez  Cabeza  de  Vaca  was  the  first  white  man  who 
stood  upon  the  soil  of  New  Mexico,  or,  as  he  called  it,  Tierra 
de  Cibolas.  This  Vaca  was  a  Spanish  gentleman  of  high  rank, 
native  of  Jerez  de  la  Frontera,  grandson  of  the  Pedro  de  Vaca, 
who  made  the  conquest  of  the  Canary  Isles.  At  Pena  Blanca, 
New  Mexico,  now  lives  a  gentleman  by  the  name  of  Don  Tomas 
Cabeza  de  Vaca,  who  is  the  tenth  in  the  direct  line  of  descent  from 
Alvar  Nunez.  The  latter  is  described  as  having,  the  most  hand- 
some and  manly  figure  of  all  the  Spanish  officers,  and  is  spoken 
of  in  the  poetry  of  that  period  as  the  "  Illustrious  Warrior." 
His  narrative,  though  supported  by  his  solemn  affidavit,  made 
for  a  Judge  in  Spain,  is  disfigured  by  most  improbable  stories,  and 
utterly  incredible  accounts  of  cures  performed  merely  by  means 
of  prayer  and  "  laying  on  of  hands."  These  features  have  caused 
the  eminent  historian,  Bancroft,  to  reject  the  whole  as  containing 
too  much  error  to  be  of  any  value;  but  as  his  descriptions  of 
the  country  exactly  coincide  with  our  present  knowledge,  and 
a  large  part  of  his  account  is  attested  by  other  witnesses,  we 
may  safely  assume  the  possible  part  as  in  the  main  correct. 

In  company  with  the  unfortunate  Pamphilo  de  Narvaez,  he 
sailed  from  San  Lucar,  Spain,  on  the  17th  of  June,  1527,  and 
landed  in  Florida  the  ensuing  April.  Every  schoolboy  is  fami- 
liar with  the  sufferings  and  fate  of  that  expedition.  The  pri- 
vate journal  of  Vaca  begins  on  the  4th  of  the  next  September, 
at  which  time  the  Spaniards  determined  to  construct  boats,  and 
attempt  to  reach  their  countrymen's  settlements  in  Mexico. 
Nails,  saws,  and  axes  were  manufactured  from  their  stirrups 
and  other  iron  equipments.  Vaca  made  a  pair  of  bellows  of 
deer  skin.  A  Greek  named  Teodora,  pitched  the  boats  with 
resin,  which  he  manufactured  from  the  pine  trees,  and  while  at 


SPANIARDS   AS   PHYSICIANS.  463 

work  they  lived  upon  their  horses,  of  which  they  made  the  skins 
into  water  bottles.  They  embarked  on  the  22d  of  September, 
and  skirted  the  coast  of  Louisiana.  A  violent  storm  scattered 
the  fleet,  and  on  the  6th  of  November,  Vaca's  boat  was  cast 
upon  the  shore,  on  one  of  the  low,  sandy  islands  lining  that 
coast.  They  were  treated  with  great  kindness  by  the  Indians, 
and  after  partly  recovering  their  strength,  repaired  their  boat, 
and  again  embarked,  but  were  thrown  back  upon  the  same 
island.  After  long  delay  they  again  repaired  their  boat,  but, 
attempting  to  embark,  it  was  swamped  in  the  surf.  Despair 
now  took  possession  of  all  but  Vaca,  Dorantes,  Castello  and  the 
Greek  ;  they  determined  to  start  for  Mexico  by  land.  Many 
of  the  others  died  of  grief  and  exposure ;  the  Indians  became 
hostile,  and  left  them  without  food,  and  in  a  short  time  out  of 
eighty  Avho  had  been  cast  ashore  (another  boat  also  had  been 
wrecked),  but  fifteen  remained  alive.  Still  the  four  above 
named  cheered  their  companions  with  the  hope  of  escape,  and 
all  started  westward,  believing  that  the  Spanish  settlement  of 
Panuco  was  not  far  distant.  Of  Narvaez  and  the  others  driven 
out  to  sea  with  him  by  the  storm,  nothing  more  was  ever  heard. 
Vaca  named  this  island  Malhado,  (misfortune,)  and  gives  a 
particular  account  of  the  customs  of  the  Indians  there,  which 
agrees  very  well  with  later  accounts. 

The  Indians  made  the  Spaniards  act  as  physicians,  and  having 
no  medical  knowledge,  their  practice  was,  says  Vaca,  "  to  bless 
the  sick,  breathe  upon  them,  and  recite  a  Paternoster  or  Ave 
Maria,  praying  with  all  earnestness  to  God,  our  Lord,  that  he 
would  give  them  health  and  influence  us  to  do  them  some  good." 
He  adds,  that  in  every  instance  the  patient  recovered,  after  which 
their  treatment  by  the  Indians  much  improved. 

In  the  spring  of  1529  they  determined  to  escape,  but  before 
the  time  set  Vaca  fell  sick.  The  others,  now  thirteen  in  num- 
ber, started  without  him,  and  he  remained  with  the  Indians  in 
that  neighborhood  nearly  five  years,  or  until  some  time  in  the 
year  1533.  He  went  without  clothing  and  conformed  to  the 
condition  of  the  Indians.  Having  got  to  another  tribe  he  gave 
up  the  profession  of  a  physician,  and  adopted  that  of  a  peddler, 


464  VACA   BECOMES   A   SLAVE   AND   ESCAPES. 

rightly  judging  this  would  better  enable  him  to  travel  from 
tribe  to  tribe.  Sometimes  he  was  well  treated,  and  sometimes 
for  long  periods  made  a  slave.  But  in  all  that  time  he  never 
succeeded  in  getting  more  than  two  hundred  miles  from  Mal- 
hado,  and  could  hear  nothing  of  his  companions  or  of  Panuco. 
At  length  he  was  joined  by  another  Spaniard  named  Ovieda, 
who  had  been  left  by  the  main  party,  and  'together  they  started 
westward  in  company  with  some  Indian  peddlers.  Yaca  relates 
that  they  crossed  four  large  rivers,  then  made  a  long  stay  at  a 
bay,  which  is  supposed  to  have  been  the  bay  of  Espiritu  Santo. 
There  came  to  them  some  Indians  he  calls  Quevenes,  who  stated 
that  "a  few  leagues  beyond  there  were  three  men  white  like 
themselves,  all  that  was  left  of  a  large  party,  slaves  to  a  tribe 
who  treated  them  with  great  cruelty."  At  this  Ovieda  became 
frightened,  turned  back  and  was  never  heard  of  afterward. 
Vaca  went  secretly  and  hung  about  the  camp  of  the  other  tribe, 
until  by  the  merest  chance  he  met  Andres  Dorantes.  They 
"  mutually  returned  thanks  to  God,"  and  in  a  short  time  Vaca 
was  united  with  the  other  two  captives,  Castillo  and  Estevanico, 
a  Barbary  negro.  These  were  the  last  of  the  thirteen  who  had 
left  Yaca  six  years  before.  Yaca  became  a  slave,  and  the  four 
captives  spent  almost  a  year  in  devising  a  plan  of  escape.  They 
got  from  tribe  to  tribe  far  into  the  interior,  and  at  length  be- 
came slaves  to  a  people  who  "  lived  where  there  were  many 
cattle/'  of  which  Yaca  says :  "  Cattle  come  as  far  as  this.  I 
have  seen  and  eaten  of  their  meat.  They  are  about  the  size  of 
those  in  Spain,  but  with  small  horns  like  those  in  Morocco,  and 
long  hair,  flocky  like  the  Merino  sheep.  They  come  as  far  as 
the  coast  of  Florida  (Texas  ?)  in  a  range  from  the  North  over 
four  hundred  leagues.  The  people  kill  them  for  food,  and  thus 
many  skins  are  scattered  through  the  country."  These,  of  course, 
were  the  buffalo. 

Of  all  the  four  hundred  Spaniards  who  had  started  for  the 
conquest  of  Florida,  but  three  remained  alive,  Yaca,  Dorantes 
and  Castillo,  and  with  them  the  negro,  Estevanico.  They 
traveled  many  weeks  toward  the  northwest,  stopping  some  time 
on  a  river  which  was  "  breast  high."  From  Yaca's  description 


"THE  TOWN  OF  HEARTS."  465 

the  place  has  been  identified  on  the  Canadian,  some  distance 
down  in  the  Indian  Territory.  From  there  they  turned  west- 
ward, and  after  traversing  much  of  what  Vaca  calls  the  "cow 
country,"  they  came  to  a  desert.  They  crossed  this  desert  and 
some  mountains,  and  came  to  "  a  people  of  fixed  habitations." 
These  people  were  very  kind.  "  They  went  in  a  state  of  nature, 
except  the  old,  who  dressed  in  skins.  The  season  was  unusually 
dry.  Rain  had  not  fallen  for  two  years,  so  they  begged  the 
white  men  to  '  tell  the  sky  to  rain/  and  also  to  pray  for  it. 
which  last  request  was  complied  with."  From  there  the  Span- 
iards went  straight  west,  and  found  the  "same  kinds  of  peoples, 
in  fixed  habitations,  and  dwelling  between  high  mountains,"  for 
a  hundred  leagues. 

The  women,  though,  were  better  treated  and  better  dressed. 
They  also  wore  shoes.  "When  a  woman  bore  a  child,  she 
brought  it  to  the  Spaniards  to  receive  their  blessing."  They 
must  have  been  at  this  period  among  the  Pueblos,  or  a  people 
who  greatly  resembled  them.  The  Spaniards  spoke  six  Indian 
tongues,  but  these  people  understood  none  of  them,  and  their 
communication  was  entirely  by  signs. 

They  continued  towards  the  west  till  they  reached  a  place 
Vaca  calls  "The  town  of  Hearts,"  because  the  Indians  "gave 
to  Dorantes  many  hundred  split  hearts  of  wild  game."  One 
day's  travel  west  of  that  they  saw  an  Indian  "  with  the  buckle 
of  a  sword  belt  and  the  nail  of  a  horseshoe,"  at  which  they  were 
delighted,  as  those  things  indicated  the  neighborhood  of  Span- 
iards. Vaca  says  of  that  region,  "  It  is  in  the  entrance  of  many 
provinces  toward  the  South  Sea.  There  is  no  maize  on  that 
coast,  but  the  people  eat  straw  and  fish.  They  are  a  melan- 
choly and  emaciated  people."  They  had  evidently  got  among 
the  degraded  aborigines  of  California.  The  Indians  stated  that 
a  few  days  before  their  arrival  "  certain  men,  who  wore  beards 
like  themselves  and  came  from  heaven,  had  come  as  far  as  that 
river;  that  they  had  lances  and  swords,  and  had  killed  two  of 
their  people,  after  which  they  had  gone  to  the  sea  and  returned 
homeward  to  where  the  sun  sets."  Convinced  that  they  were 
near  their  countrymen,  they  pressed  rapidly  southward,  passing 
30 


466  VACA   REACHES   THE   CITY   OF   MEXICO. 

through  territory  abounding  in  good  land  and  beautiful  streams; 
but  the  natives  everywhere  had  fled  to  the  mountains  for  fear 
of  the  Spaniards,  who  had  made  an  expedition  from  Mexico. 

As  they  advanced,  they  saw  repeated  indications  of  their 
countrymen,  and  at  length  "  came  upon  four  Spanish  horse- 
men." Strangely  enough,  Yaca  indulges  in  no  particular 
description  of  his  feelings  on  the  occasion.  He  merely  asked 
the  horsemen  to  take  him  to  their  commander,  Diego  de 
Alcaraz,  of  whom  he  requested  "  a  certificate  of  the  day,  month 
and  year  of  his  arrival  among  them,  and  the  manner  in  which 
he  .came."  Alcaraz  explained  that  he  himself  was  lost,  and 
did  not  know  which  way  to  turn.  He  sent  them  forward  with 
a  small  party,  and  after  a  long  and  distressing  march  they 
reached  the  town  of  Culiacan,  in  the  present  Mexican  State  of 
Sinaloa,  where  they  were  received  with  unbounded  astonish- 
ment. The  Governor  of  that  province  sent  them  to  Compos- 
tella,  a  hundred  leagues  further.  From  there  they  were 
everywhere  received  with  public  demonstrations,  great  crowds 
of  people  flocking  to  see  them,  on  the  road  to  the  City  of 
Mexico,  which  they  reached  aon  the  day  before  the  vespers  of 
St.  James,"  in  1536.  They  were  received  with  great  honors 
by  the  Viceroy,  and  Castillo  and  Esteranico  remained  in 
Mexico.  The  next  spring  Vaca  and  Dorantes  went  to  Vera 
Cruz,  and  shipped  for  Spain,  and  after  many  vicissitudes 
reached  the  harbor  of  Lisbon,  August  9,  1537.  Vaca  was  pre- 
sented at  court,  and  married  a  noble  Spanish  lady.  The 
Emperor  conferred  upon  him  the  Government  of  Paraguay, 
with  the  title  of  Adalantado.  But  his  constitution  seems  to 
have  been  enfeebled,  and  his  life  had  completely  unfitted  him 
for  public  business.  He  soon  returned  to  Spain  and  settled, 
in  the  enjoyment  of  a  handsome  pension,  at  Seville,  where  he 
died.  At  Seville  he  wrote  his  narrative,  of  which  many  manu- 
script copies  were  made,  some  still  remaining  in  the  archives 
of  the  Narvaez  family.  Nearly  two  hundred  years  after  it  was 
translated  and  published  at  Paris,  of  which  translation  the 
above  is  a  summary.  I  am  told  also,  that  an  English  trans- 
lation or  abbreviation  has  been  published  in  Washington,  by 


ANOTHER   EXPEDITION   TO   NEW   MEXICO.  467 

Mr.  Buckingham  Smith.  It  would  certainly  be  an  exceed- 
ingly popular  work,  having  all  the  interest  of  the  most  exciting 
romance,  and  the  value  of  authentic  history.  Many  of  Vaca's 
descriptions  are  as  exact  as  could  be  written  to-day. 

At  that  time,  1530-40,  all  the  country  north  and  east  of  the 
Rio  Grande  was  called  by  the  Spaniards  Cibola.  In  Mexico 
this  is,  by  common  consent,  the  word  for  buffalo,  but  in  the 
Spanish  lexicons  it  is  translated,  "A  quadruped  called  the 
Mexican  bull." 

The  next  expedition  into  New  Mexico  was  by  an  army  under 
the  command  of  Don  Francisco  Vasquez  Coronado,  appointed 
by  the  Viceroy  of  Mexico,  in  search  of  "  The  Seven  Cities." 
The  Spaniards  had  heard  of  these  cities  as  so  rich  in  precious 
metals,  that  the  household  implements  of  the  people  were  of 
gold  and  silver,  and  their  currency  pearls  and  other  precious 
stones.  The  army,  numbering  at  least  seven  or  eight  hundred, 
was  largely  composed  of  young  Spanish  cavaliers,  who  were  as 
enthusiastic  as  our  own  "  Pike's  Peakers,"  and  announced  in 
Mexico  that  "  neither  they  nor  their  families  would  ever  have 
need  of  more  gold  than  they  should  bring  back  from  the  Seven 
Cities."  But  just  before  this,  a  friar  named  Niza  had  pene- 
trated some  distance  into  Arizona  to  convert  the  natives,  and 
only  returned  when  his  last  companion  was  killed.  Coronado 
set  out  on  his  march  in  January,  1541.  With  him  was  one 
Castaneda,  a  sort  of  Spanish  Xenophon,  a  scholar,  private 
soldier  and  adventurer,  who  has  left  a  full  account  of  the  trip. 
They  marched  from  the  town  of  Culiacan  northward  to  the 
Gila  River,  which  they  crossed  near  the  present  Casas  Grandes. 
The  Indians  seem  to  have  been  rather  too  sharp  for  the  Span- 
iards, as  each  successive  tribe  assured  the  latter  that  they  were 
themselves  very  poor,  "  but  about  a  hundred  leagues  farther  on 
they  would  find  the  golden  cities  they  were  in  search  of." 
They  did  find  seven  cities — in  fact  several  different  nations, 
each  with  seven  cities;  but  the 'largest  only  contained  a  few 
hundred  inhabitants,  and  none  of  the  gold  they  were  in  search 
of.  Soon  after  crossing  the  Gila,  they  found  the  whole  country 
mountainous  and  barren.  Of  one  town  Castaneda  says:  "This 


468 


WANDERINGS. 


Chilticale,  built  of  red  earth,  was  evidently  the  work  of  a  civil- 
ized people  who  had  come  from  a  distance.  .  .  .  The  large 
house  seemed  to  have  served  for  a  fortress,  and  had  evidently 
been  destroyed  by  the  present  inhabitants,  who  compose  the 
most  barbarous  nation  yet  found  in  these  regions."  They  con- 
tinued their  march  to  the  northeast,  meeting  with  a  disagreeable 
variety  of  mountains,  deserts  and  wild  Indians,  at  length  reach- 
ing a  place  which,  from  their  description,  is  thought  to  be  the 
present  Zuni  town. 

It  is  farther  conceded  by 
those  who  have  examined  the 
subject,  that  the  "Seven 
Cities  of  Cibola,"  if  they 
ever  had  an  existence,  were 
in  the  valley  of  the  De  Chaco, 
where  are  now  the  ruins  of 
seven  great  towns. 

The  army  marched  on  to 
the  province  they  called 
Cibola,  where  they  found 
several  well  built  towns,  and 
but  little  gold  or  silver. 
There  they  spent  the  win- 
ter, and  in  the  spring  marched 
on  eastward.  They  fell  in 
with  an  Indian  they  called 
"the  Turk,"  on  account  of 
his  resemblance  to  that 
people,  and  he  piloted  them 
entirely  through  the  moun- 
tains, out  on  to  the  plains,  and  to  the  country  of  the  buf- 
falo. They  wintered,  the  second  year,  in  the  Rio  Grande 
country.  There  all  the  Indians  still  directed  them  a  "few  hun- 
dred leagues  to  the  east,"  and  told  them  Quivira  was  the  rich 
country  they  were  in  search  of.  So  they  marched  for  Quivira, 
and,  after  a  whole  year  in  the  buffalo  country,  made  their 
final  pause  on  a  large  river,  now  believed  to  have  been  the 


PUEBLO  AT   PRAYER. 


SANTA    FE    FOUNDED.  469 

Arkansas.  Castaneda's  description  of  that  country  will  answer 
very  well  at  the  present  day. 

Coronado  then  determined  to  return,  and  against  the  wishes 
of  the  entire  army,  they  set  out  for  New  Spain,  which  they 
reached  some  five  years  after  leaving  it.  Coronado  was  deprived 
of  all  his  offices,  and  went  to  Spain  in  disgrace.  Castaneda 
applies  to  him  a  phrase  which  is  literally  translated  into  modern 
slang,  "  out  o'  luck." 

Forty  years  passed  away,  and  two  friars  came  into  New 
Mexico  with  a  religious  company,  all  of  whom  were  put  to 
death  by  the  Indians.  Another  expedition  was  undertaken  by 
Antonio  de  Espejo,  with  a  small  force,  which  explored  the  val- 
ley of  the  Rio  Grande,  and  returned  to  Mexico  without  loss.  He 
is  credited  with  having  founded  Santa  Fe,  in  or  about  the  year 
1580. 

Next  came  Don  Juan  de  Onati  in  1591,  with  an  army  and  a 
considerable  band  of  colonists,  and  succeeded  in  establishing 
some  settlements  about  the  close  of  that  century.  He  left  a 
voluminous  report,  portions  of  which  have  been  copied,  r,s 
well  as  his  private  journal,  and  translated  into  English.  The 
original  was  in  the  Secretary's  office  in  Santa  Fe,  and  not  long 
after  the  American  occupation  was  stolen  and  has  never  been 
recovered.  About  a  wagon  load  of  Spanish  manuscripts  are  in 
the  Librarian's  office.  Seventy  years  after  the  settlement  the 
Pueblos  rebelled  and  drove  out  the  Spaniards,  and  the  province 
was  recovered  by  Governor  Otermin  and  General  Vargas,  after 
a  bloody  war.  Then  follows  a  list  of  some  forty  Spanish  and 
Mexican  Governors,  Captains,  Generals  and  political  chiefs,  who 
ruled  New  Mexico  a  hundred  and  forty-six  years,  ending  with 
Don  Manuel  Armijo  in  1846,  who  collected  a  large  army  to  meet 
the  Americans,  and,  like  the  noted  "  King  of  France,"  marched 
out  to  the  canon  commanding  the  country,  and  then  marched 
back  again,  abandoning  the  province  without  firing  a  shot. 
Whether  these  people  are  bettered  by  an  American  occupation, 
I  have  my  doubts.  That  they  have  not  progressed  for  a  century 
and  a  half  is  self  evident.  They  could  not  possibly  have  been 
more  ignorant,  superstitious  and  unenterprising  than  they  are  now. 


470  POPULATION. 

"Since  the  occupation,"  meaning  since  the  the  Americans 
annexed  the  country,  is  a  phrase  continually  heard  in  New 
Mexico,  in  much  the  same  way  as  "Since  the  war,"  in  the  South: 
a  general  era  from  which  to  date 

"  All  times,  all  seasons,  and  their  change ;  " 

as  then  the  modern  history  of  the  Territory  may  be  said  to 
have  begun.  Twenty-two  years  passed,  each  exactly  like  the 
others  ;  then  carne  a  better  class  of  Americans,  and  soon  began 
to  agitate  for  the  adoption  of  a  State  Government.  Nearly  all 
the  Federal  officials  and  most  of  the  genie  fina,  or  leading 
families,  were  in  favor  of  it;  the  air  was  full  of  arguments  on 
the  subject,  and  the  figures  in  its  favor  were  recited  unto  me 
daily. 

The  population,  exclusive  of  Pueblos,  is  92,000,  which  makes 
the  Territory  appear  on  the  census  roll  to  have  lost  2000  since 
1860.  This  was  caused  by  Colorado  taking  four  counties,  con- 
taining 12,000  people,  and  Arizona  a  strip  containing  8000; 
so  the  area  which  was  New  Mexico  in  1860,  has  really  gained 
18,000  in  population.  The  census  rolls  make  no  distinction 
between  American  and  Mexican,  but  from  the  best  data  obtain- 
able, the  former  are  thought  to  number  fully  6000,  and  are 
just  now  increasing  rapidly.  This  leaves  of  all  shades  of 
Spanish  86,000 — from  pure  Castilian  to  the  darkest  "Greaser." 
Of  those  nominally  Americans,  over  half  are  Jews,  Hungari- 
ans, Frenchmen,  and  Germans,  all  naturalized  citizens,  however. 
Have  we  here,  then,  the  elements  of  a  progressive  American 
State?  The  leading  men  of  both  races  maintain  that  we  have, 
and  the  Constitution  now  before  Congress  was  submitted  to 
the  people  last  June,  and  adopted  by  a  large  majority.  The 
Democrats  have  heretofore  opposed  it,  but  now  are  divided  on 
the  question.  The  most  intelligent  Mexicans  are  Republicans, 
and  most  of  the  rest  follow  their  lead  with  but  little  question. 
They  are  the  most  easily  managed  people  in  America.  The 
Constitution  presented  is  almost  identical  with  the  new  one  of 
Illinois,  except  the  voting  clause,  with  some  features  added 
from  Nevada.  If  put  in  operation,  this  will  be  the  cheapest 


WEALTH   OF   THE   COUNTRY.  471 

State  Government  in  the  Union.  The  highest  salary  paid  is 
fifteen  hundred  dollars,  and  under  the  Alcalde  system  each 
town  is  practically  a  law  unto  itself.  At  the  outside,  and 
making  the  highest  allowance  for  extra  legislative  expenses, 
the  State  can  be  run  for  $20,000  a  year  more  than  the  Terri- 
tory expends  on  its  own  account.  The  assessed  value  of 
property  in  the  Territory  is  thirty-two  million  dollars,  and 
the  rate  of  taxation  will  thus  be  as  low,  or  lower,  than  in  Massa- 
chusetts. 

We  may  sum  up  the  population  of  New  Mexico  thus : 

Americans  6,000 

Mexicans - 86,000 

Citizen  Indians  (Pueblos) 10,000 

Wild  Indians  (perhaps) 20,000 

Total 122,000 

The  common  people  are  incredibly  poor.  If  a  late  peon, 
now  free,  has  a  dollar,  he  neither  labors  nor  thinks  till  it  is 
gone.  Twenty-five  cents  of  it  buys  flour,  twenty-five  goes  for 
dulcex  for  the  senora,  another  twenty-five  pays  for  absolution, 
and  the  rest  buys  a  lottery  ticket.  No  matter  if  his  ticket 
draw  a  blank  a  hundred  times  in  succession,  "  may  be  some 
time  I  win"  is  to  him  sufficient  answer.  A  few  families  own 
all  the  wealth  of  the  country.  Even  they  have  their  wealth 
mostly  in  flocks  and  herds,  and  immense  as  it  is,  it  brings  them 
but  few  of  the  luxuries  of  life.  If  this  Territory  is  admitted 
now  as  a  State,  it  ought  to  be  called  the  State  of  Pobritta 
("  Little  Poverty"). 

Each  of  these  wealthy  families  has  from  five  hundred  to  two 
thousand  dependents,  some  of  whom  were  their  peons  before 
that  system  was  abolished,  and  continue  to  yield  obedience  by 
nature  and  habit.  If  a  State,  this  would  be  a  most  complete 
"  rotten  borough  " — the  worst  "  carpet-bag  "  State  in  the  Union. 
Fifteen  families  with  ease  would  rule  the  State — the  Chaves, 
Gallegos,  Delgados,  Senas,  Garcias,  Pereas,  Oteros,  Quintanas, 
and  a  few  others.  These  families  have  three-fourths  of  the 
wealth  of  the  Territory,  and  all  the  influence.  The  poor  Mexi- 
cans do  anything  they  are  told ;  in  fact,  don't  know  how  to  do 


472  RELIGIONS. 

otherwise  than  as  they  are  told.  These  families,  in  combination 
with  half  a  dozen  priests,  and  a  dozen  or  more  Americans, 
would  divide  the  home  offices  between  them,  and  send  whom- 
soever they  pleased  to  Congress.  If  an  American  is  "  in  with 
the  noble  families,"  he  is  a  made  man.  It  would  be  an  emi- 
nently peaceable  State,  however ;  the  Government  need  antici- 
pate no  trouble  or  need  of  reconstruction.  They  are  very 
friendly  to  an  American,  seeming  to  regard  him  as  actually  a 
superior.  The  Mexican  women  almost  look  upon  a  white  man 
as  a  sort  of  little  divinity.  Religion  seems  to  interpose  not  the 
slightest  objection.  A  Protestant  can  get  office  as  easily  as  a 
Catholic,  if  not  more  so.  The  Americans,  of  course,  are  Pro- 
testants, but  for  the  most  part  like  A.  Ward's  showman  partner: 
"Gentlemen,  these  are  my  sentiments;  but  if  they  don't  suit 
you,  they  kin  be  changed." 

Father  Hays,  a  most  genial,  humorous  and  intelligent  Irish 
priest,  gave  me  an  amusing  account  of  a  young  Virginian  who 
lately  arrived  there,  and  coolly  proposed  to  the  Father  to 
become  a  Catholic,  if  the  latter  would  introduce  him  into  the 
better  class  of  families.  He  stated  that  he  intended  to  settle 
hi  the  country,  and  wished  to  marry  a  Mexican  lady  with  some 
property. 

The  State  of  New  Mexico  would  be  a  quiet  one,  if  not  pro- 
gressive. The  country  unquestionably  abounds  in  natural 
wealth,  and  after  two  railroads  get  there,  and  fifty  thousand 
Americans,  it  will  be  the  richest  of  all  the  new  States.  There 
is  little  or  no  provision  for  public  schools.  The  Convent  School 
in  Santa  Fe  is  good,  and  nearly  all  the  Americans  patronize  it. 
The  Episcopalians  and  Presbyterians  have  a  small  school.  The 
Catholic  Bishop,  G.  B.  Lamy,  came  to  Cincinnati  twenty-seven 
years  ago,  and  in  the  diocese  of  the  present  Archbishop  Purcell 
was  ordained,  and  ministered  some  time  in  Covington,  Ken- 
tucky. He  went  to  New  Mexico  twenty-two  years  ago,  and  is 
the  best  posted  man  in  all  matters  relating  to  the  nature  of  the 
country,  climate,  soil  and  mineral  wealth  that  I  met.  The 
French  and  Irish  superior  priests  in  the  city  are  first-class  men; 
the  native  priests  in  the  country  are  very  uncertain.  Bishop 


NOMENCLATURE.  473 

Lamy  tells  me  that  the  Pueblos  are  among  the  best  practical 
Christians  in  New  Mexico.  I  hope  it  is  so,  for  I  must  travel 
among  them  soon.  He  has  devoted  a  lifetime  to  the  reforma- 
tion of  the  Church  throughout  the  Territory,  and  still  there  is 
vast  room  for  improvement.  Of  all  the  native  priests  only  two, 
I  am  informed,  escaped  being  silenced.  As  they  were  in  race 
neither  Spanish  nor  Indian,  so  they  were  in  faith  neither 
Catholic  nor  Aztec;  their  religion  sat  loosely  upon  them,  and 
they  lived  to  all  intents  like  the  rest  of  the  population.  Each 
one  kept  his  senorita,  and  though  the  children  took  the  mother's 
name,  the  paternity  was  well  known.  Queerest  of  all,  and 
most  dearly  showing  the  singular  " faith  without  knowledge" 
of  these  people,  are  the  proper  names.  Jesus,  Maria,  Mariano 
and  Jose  (Joseph)  are  favorites,  the  second  and  third  common 
to  both  sexes.  A  prominent  citizen  of  Santa  Fe  is  Don  Jesus 
Vigil.  His  parents  probably  intended  him  for  a  "  watchful 
Christian."  Fortunately  for  sensitive  American  ears,  it  is  pro- 
nounced Haysoos  Veheel.  Irreverent  as  it  may  appear  in  me 
to  write  it,  there  is  a  well-known  citizen  whose  name  is  Jesus 
A.  Christ  de  Vaca  (Haysoos  Antonio  Kreest  day  Bvahca). 

But  the  Spanish  Americans  generally  are  brilliant  in  nomen- 
clature. The  full  name  of  a  cow-herd  sounds  like  the  title  of  a 
grandee.  Americans  who  settle  in  the  country  very  often 
either  translate  their  own  names,  or  give  them  a  Castilian  term- 
ination. By  such  process  Mr.  Meadows  becomes  Seilor  Las 
Vegas ;  John  Boggs,  Seiior  Juan  de  Palos ;  and  Jim  Gibbons 
flowers  out  as  Don  Santiago  de  Gibbonoise.  An  Irishman  from 
Denver  settled  near  El  Paso,  married  a  wealthy  Mexican  lady 
and  lives  in  style ;  his  original  name,  Tim.  Murphy,  is  long 
since  forgotten,  and  he  signs  his  bank  checks  as  Timotheus 
Murfando. 

Sometimes,  among  the  genie  fina,  the  marriage  contract  speci- 
fies that  the  sons  take  both  names  (united  by  "and"),  from 
some  principles  of  the  law  as  to  entailed  estates.  Thus  Don 
Jose  Vigil  y  Alarid  is  the  son  of  a  lady  of  the  Alarid  family 
married  to  Senor  Vigil.  In  like  manner  my  young  friends  in- 
sisted that  my  rough  Saxon  patronymic  did  not  suit  the  soft 
Castilian,  and  I  became  Don  Juan  de  Bidello. 


474 


AZTEC   EUIXS. 


Their  religion  strikes  me  as  a  vile  parody  on  Mother  Church, 
and  some  of  their  ceremonies  are  so  ridiculous  that  to  describe 
them  would  be,  as  Dogberry  says,  "  flat  burglary."  They  have 
a  set  of  fellows  known  as  Penitentes,  or  in  French  Flagellants, 
who  on  stated  occasions  walk  about  the  streets  in  processions, 
naked  from  the  waist  upward,  and  thrashing  themselves  with 
bunches  of  a  thorny  shrub  native  to  the  country.  They  often 
leave  the  ground  behind  them  streaked  with  blood,  and  a  few 
days  after  my  arrival  one  died  at  Tecolote,  northeast  of  Santa 
Fe,  from  exhaustion  and  loss  of  blood.  Be  was  buried  at  night 
under  the  church,  and  the  authorities  could  not  even  learn  the 

name  of  the  wretch- 
ed fanatic. 

On  three  sides  of 
the  city  are  ruins  of 
ancient  pueblos 
(Aztec  or  Toltec,  it 
is  not  certain),  which 
were  evidently 
great  and  prosper- 
ous. But  they  have 
long  since  fallen  to 
ruins,  and  besides 
the  broken  pieces 
of  pottery  of  most 
curious  workman- 
ship, all  that  remains  of  these  cities  are  the  two  old  houses  on 
the  road  to  San  Miguel.  The  arrangement  of  these  houses,  and 
the  few  relics  and  rude  drawings  preserved,  show  that  the  occu- 
pants adored  the  rising  sun,  and  had  substantially  the  religion 
of  the  Montezumas.  They  cooked  vegetables  by  the  use  of 
smooth  white  stones,  which  were  heated  in  a  small  furnace. 
The  food  was  put  in  a  vessel  containing  water,  into  which  they 
threw  these  heated  stones,  frequently  changing  them  to  keep  the 
water  boiling. 

Most  interesting  of  all  the  people  of  New  Mexico,  are  the 
Pueblos,  or  citizen  Indians,  the  last  of  the  ancient  civilized 


A  MEXICAN  DRAY. 


PUEBLOS   OR   CITIZEN    INDIANS.  475 

aborigines,  who  number  eight  or  ten  thousand  in  the  entire 
Territory.  Heretofore,  they  have  not  been  considered  citizens ; 
but  the  question  was  raised,  and  by  the  last  Supreme  Court 
decided  in  their  favor,  and  henceforth  they  are  voters.  They 
are  eminently  civil  and  honest,  and  in  every  respect  as  civilized 
and  progressive  as  the  Mexicans.  Indeed,  it  is  the  uniform 
testimony  of  travelers  and  American  residents,  that  they  are  the 
most  trustworthy  of  all  the  people  of  New  Mexico.  From  what 
I  see  of  them  about  the  streets  of  Santa  Fe,  they  seem  to  have 
more  of  the  commercial  character,  and  to  be  much  more  active 
traders  than  other  Mexicans.  But  they  still  dress  in  the  ancient 
costume,  which  is  neither  Indian  nor  Spanish,  but  a  sort  of 
mixture,  with  pantaloons  somewhat  in  the  Turkish  style,  and 
when  in  full  dress  with  a  profusion  of  red  and  yellow.  They 
inhabit  twenty-six  villages,  principally  in  the  Valley  of  the 
Rio  Grande,  the  most  important  of  which,  is  San  Juan,  thirty 
miles  northwest  of  Santa  Fe.  They  live  totally  distinct  from 
the  surrounding  Mexicans,  each  village  having  its  own  govern- 
ment, and  no  bond  of  union  between  them  ;  but  all  live  in  the 
greatest  harmony  with  their  neighbors.  Each  village  has  a 
Governor,  a  cacique  or  justice,  a  fiscal  or  constable,  and  a 
"council  of  wise  men/'  Besides  these  civil  officers  there  is  also 
a  war  captain,  who  attends  to  military  affairs. 

A  few  hundred  acres  of  land  belong  to  each  pueblo  (the  word 
means  "  village"),  which  is  parceled  out  for  cultivation  to  the 
various  families  according  to  their  size.  They  are  more  indus- 
trious than  the  Mexicans,  and  have  abundance  of  wholesome 
food.  They  live  almost  exclusively  on  beans,  mutton,  and  corn 
meal,  their  lands  producing  the  vegetables  in  great  quantities. 
Their  herds  are  extensive,  and  consist  of  the  small,  hardy  breed 
of  sheep.  They  were  long  ago  forced  to  adopt  the  Catholic 
faith,  but  have  mingled  it  strangely  with  their  old  religion,  as 
some  of  them  seem  to  regard  God  and  the  sun  as  the  same. 

Sabianism  would  appear  to  be  the  natural  religion  of  all  races 
aboriginal  to  a  dry,  healthful  climate,  with  clear  air  and  much 
bright  weather,  as  we  find  to  have  been  the  case  in  Chaldee, 
Persia,  and  Mexico.  They  pray  upon  the  flat  roofs  of  their 


476 


CUSTOMS,    DRESS,    ETC 


" CARAMBA I   YA  MALADITTO." 

houses  at  sunrise  and  sunset,  and  no  one  can  certainly  tell 
whether  they  are  praying  to  the  sun  or  the  Catholic  Deity,  as 
they  are  very  reticent  about  their  religious  belief.  A  pueblo 
consists  of  one  large  square,  with  windows,  but  no  doors,  the 
entrance  being  on  the  roof  and  reached  by  an  outside  ladder. 
They  dress  mostly  in  woolen  of  their  own  manufacture.  The 
women  are  very  stout  and  muscular,  and  the  men  well  formed 
and  tolerably  good  looking,  with  mild,  open  countenances.  They 
speak  the  Spanish  with  eloquence  and  fluency,  but  learn  Eng- 
lish with  difficulty.  Anciently  they  composed  four  distinct 
Nations,  namely  :  The  Piros,  Teguas,  Queres,  and  Tagnos ;  but 
are  now  merged  in  one,  and,  according  to  their  own  account, 
not  one-tenth  as  numerous  as  before  the  conquest. 

Who  are  they  ?  is  the  puzzling  question.  They  did  not  learn 
their  civilization  from  the  Spaniards,  that  is  certain ;  but  were 
found  by  the  latter  almost  as  far  advanced  as  to-day.  Cas- 
taneda  says  the  Pueblos  came  with  a  nation  from  the  northwest, 
and  their  own  tradition  is  that  they  are  Montezumas  Indians. 
Against  this,  however,  Baron  Humboldt  contended  that  the 
Aztec  language  differed  essentially  from  that  of  the  Pueblos, 
and  Castaneda  further  says  that  they  were  unknown  to  the  peo- 
ple of  Mexico  until  Cabeza  de  Vaca  and  his  companions  brought 


OBJECTS    OF    INTEREST.  477 

information  of  them.  The  late  Albert  Gallatin  took  great 
interest  in  this  question,  and  after  careful  examination  pro- 
nounced the  Pueblos  to  be  of  Toltec  origin.  A  still  more  inter- 
esting question  to  me  is,  what  of  their  old  civilization — was  it 
spontaneous,  as  in  Egypt  and  the  Orient,  or  did  they  derive  it 
from  some  foreign  source,  from  some  Asiatic  immigration? 
Unfortunately,  we  are  here  out  of  the  domain  of  obtainable 
facts,  and  remitted  to  vague  theories  and  more  or  less  probable 
guesses  as  to  the  "Mound-builders,"  and  the  "Tartars  in 
America,"  whom  the  California  Chinese  aver  to  have  been  sent 
hither  by  Kublai  Kahn  in  the  twelfth  century.  Bishop  Lamy 
is  of  opinion  that  the  Pueblos  are  actually  Indians,  with  a 
civilization  peculiarly  their  own,  and  pronounces  them  the  best 
practical  Christians  in  New  Mexico. 

Among  so  many  objects  of  interest  Santa  Fe  assumed  new 
beauties  in  my  eyes,  and  I  could  almost  forgive  the  natives  for 
presuming  to  exist.  They  style  the  location  "the  western  base 
of  the  Rocky  Chain,"  but  to  me  it  seems  not  the  base,  but  half 
or  two-thirds  of  the  way  up  the  mountain.  The  valley  of  the 
Santa  Fe  River  is  nowhere  more  than  a  mile  or  two  wide,  the 
river  itself  about  a  rod  wide  and  six  inches  deep,  and  on  both 
sides  of  it  the  city  extends  in  tolerably  regular  squares.  About 
one-tenth  the  amount  of  rain  falls  in  a  year  as  in  Ohio.  The 
river  is  diverted  from  its  main  channel  into  acecquias,  one  for 
each  street,  and  all  the  crops  are  watered  regularly,  though  by 
an  awkward  and  unscientific  method  of  irrigation. 

Daily  I  studied  the  routes  through  Arizona,  and  each  day 
brought  fresh  tales  of  disaster.  First  came  a  Mexican  from 
El  Paso,  whose  two  companions  were  killed  by  Indians  on  the 
edge  of  the  Jornada  del  Muerto;  and  next  a  butcher  from  the 
western  border,  whose  Mexican  herders  were  killed  and  all  his 
stock  run  off  by  the  Mescalero  Apaches.  And  while  he  was 
yet  speaking  came  another  messenger  and  said  that  nine  pros- 
pectors, who  left  by  the  northern  route,  went  too  far  south,  fell 
into  an  ambuscade,  and  "  their  scalps  now  ornament  the  lodges 
of  Collyer's  pets." 

We  next  receive  Arizona  papers  with  the  information  that 


478  PERILS    OF   TRAVELERS. 

the  Eastern  coach  was  attacked  near  Tucson,  and  the  driver 
and  messenger  killed ;  and  that  the  Western  coach  was  robbed 
beyond  Fort  Yuma  by  Mexican  ladrones,  and  the  station-keeper 
and  one  messenger  murdered.  The  white  population  of  Arizona 
is  9600,  and  they  average  a  loss  of  twenty  per  month  by 
Apaches  and  Mexicans — about  half  the  ordinary  mortality  of 
an  army.  All  things  considered,  I  concluded  to  try  the  northern 
route.  A  soldier  was  about  to  start  for  Fort  Wingate  with  a 
wagon-load  of  provisions ;  and  General  Myers,  Quartermaster, 
kindly  gave  me  passage  with  him.  From  Wingate  I  thought 
to  catch  some  kind  of  an  expedition  to  Prescott.  There  were 
stretches  of  fifty  miles  on  that  line  without  grass  or  water,  but 
there  are  no  hostile  Indians,  which  perfectly  suited  the  writer. 
By  waiting  a  month  I  could  have  gone  to  the  Little  Colorado 
with  a  party  of  engineers ;  but  life  is  too  short  to  stay  a  whole 
month  in  Santa  Fe. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 
"GREASERDOM." 

Off  from  Santa  Fe— La  Bajada— Rio  .Grande  Valley— The  Pueblo  de  San  Do- 
mingo— Mexican  farms — Albuquerque — Crossing  the  Rio  Grande — On  the 
Desert— Rio  Puerco— El  Rito— "  Town  of  the .  Lake  "— Cubero— McCarty'a 
Ranche — Murder  by  the  Navajoes — Agua  Azul — The  extinct  volcano — Summit 
of  the  Sierra  Madre— At  Wingate— My  soldier  comes  to  grief. 

WELVE  days  I  abode  in  Santa  Fe,  and  my  summing 
up  is  about  like  that  of  the  sailor  who  had  agreed  to 
write  to  his  friends  of  the  manners  and  customs  of  the 
people  he  visited  :  when  shipwrecked  on  the  coast  of 
Patagonia  he  wrote,  "  These  people  have  no  manners, 
and  their  customs  are  disgusting."  No,  I  am  wrong  there : 
they  have  a  surplus  of  manners;  it  is  in  morals  there  is  a  de- 
ficit. The  Territory  contains  about  eighty  thousand  native 
Mexicans,  divisible  into  three  classes :  the  gente  fina,  or  noble 
bloods,  of  whom  there  are  about  fifteen  families;  the  respect- 
able middle  classes,  who  may  possibly  amount  to  two  thousand 
in  all ;  and  the  "Greasers,"  who  make  up  about  ninety-five  per 
cent,  of  the  whole.  Taking  out  fifteen  families,  it  is  my  solemn 
conviction  that  the  property  of  all  the  other  Mexicans  in  the 
Territory  will  not  average  fifty  dollars  apiece.  I  thought,  be- 
fore this  trip,  that  Utah  was  the  poorest  part  of  America ;  but 
the  Mormons  roll  in  wealth  compared  to  the  New  Mexicans. 
As  to  morals,  which  is  the  worse,  polygamy  or  promiscuous 
concubinage  ?  That  is  a  great  moral  question  which  I  am  not 
competent  to  decide.  People  who  have  lived  among  them  many 
years  confidently  assert  that  there  are  some,  in  fact  a  number, 
of  virtuous  people  among  the  natives.  I  hope  it  is  so.  Let  us 
take  it  for  granted,  and  dismiss  the  subject. 

At  11  A.  M.  of  May  22d,  I  took  my  seat  on  a  freight  wagon 

479 


480  EEMINISCENCES   OF   SANTA   FE. 

and  rolled  out  of  the  new  Mexican  capital.  Crossing  the  Rio 
de  Santa  Fc,  we  left  the  valley  and  struck  across  the  mesa  in  a 
southwest  direction,  the  city  behind  us  appearing  to  sink  slowly 
into  the  earth.  Looking  back  upon  it,  this  noted  town  ap- 
peared to  my  eye  exactly  like  a  collection  of  old  brick  yards. 
It  is  my  invariable  custom  to  say  something  good  of  a  town  on 
departing,  if  I  can  possibly  think  of  a  good  thing  to  say ;  but  I 
am  puzzled  what  to  say  for  Santa  Fe.  Verily  my  stay  there 
left  the  worst  impressions  I  ever  had  of  any  city  in  the  West. 
The  few  Americans  there  I  liked,  but  as  for  the  natives,  if  there 
is  hope  for  them,  morally  or  intellectually,  I  have  failed  to  see 
the  signs.  That  the  city  has  no  commercial  future  is,  to  my 
mind,  self-evident.  I  find  it  difficult  to  convey  on  paper  the 
exact  reasons,  but  if  one  could  stand  on  the  mesa  a  few  miles 
southwest,  he  would  see  it  at  a  glance:  the  mountains  extend 
around  it  in  a  semicircle,  putting  out  north  and  south  of  it 
almost  to  the  Rio  Grande,  and  all  practicable  passes  for  railroads 
completely  flank  it.  Either  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific,  or  the 
Denver  and  Rio  Grande  would  have  to  go  forty  or  more  miles 
beyond  it,  then  bend  around  the  points  of  the  mountain  cres- 
cent and  run  back  and  up  a  rise  of  two  thousand  feet  or  more 
to  reach  it.  The  site,  moreover,  is  five  hundred  feet  higher 
than  the  highest  point  on  the  surveyed  line  of  the  Atlantic  and 
Pacific.  It  was  an  important  place  in  the  old  days  of  freighting 
from  the  Missouri  border,  because  it  was  on  the  first  level  and 
fertile  piece  of  ground  the  trains  could  reach  after  getting  through 
the  mountain  passes ;  but  it  can  never  be  a  railroad  center.  It 
may  some  day  have  a  branch  road,  but  even  that  I  consider 
very  doubtful. 

My  only  companion  from  Santa  Fe  to  Fort  Wingate  was 
Frank  Hamilton,  of  the  8th  U.  S.  Cavalry,  stationed  at  that 
post.  Frank  had  been  detailed  to  come  to  Santa  Fe  on  mili- 
tary business,  and  had  improved  the  occasion  by  getting  glori- 
ously drunk,  in  which  condition  he  remained  most  of  the  time 
he  was  at  Santa  Fe,  and  was  barely  sober  enough  to  know  the 
road  when  we  started.  The  average  regular  soldier  will  take 
his  tod — as  often  as  he  can  get  the  chance. 


LA    BAJADA. 


481 


SOUTHWEST  FROM  SANTA  FE. 

Instead  of  goicg  westward  down  the  Santa  Fe,  we  turn  south- 
west, rising  by  successive  "  benches  "  to  a  vast  barren  table  land. 
We  pass  in  the  afternoon  one  Mexican  hamlet,  looking  like  a 
collection  of  half  a  dozen  "green"  brick  yards,  dry,  hard,  dusty 
and  desolate.  Crossing  the  high  mesa,  level  as  the  sea,  we 
approach  an  irregular  line  of  rocks,  rising  like  turrets  ten  or 
twenty  feet  above  the  plain,  which  we  find  to  be  a  sort  of  natural 
battlement  along  the  edge  of  the  "  big  hill."  Reaching  the 
cliff  we  see,  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees  below  us,  in  a 
narrow  valley,  the  town  of  La  Bajada.  Down  the  face  of  this 
frightful  hill  the  road  winds  in  a  series  of  zigzags,  bounded  in. 
the  worst  places  by  rocky  walls,  descending  fifteen  hundred  feet 
in  three-quarters  of  a  mile.  La  Bajada  is  the  stereotyped  New 
Mexican  town — a  collection  of  mud  huts,  among  which  one  or 
two  whitewashed  domos  indicate  the  residences  of  persons  of  the 
genie  fina  (hen-ta  fee-nah\  or  as  they  themselves  style  it,  of  the 
sangre  azul  (blue  blood).  The  town  has  a  hotel,  consisting  of  a 
31 


482  HOTEL  Iff    LA  BAJADA. 

quadrangle  of  rooms  around  an  open  square,  which  contains 
some  flowers,  two  shade  trees,  benches  and  wash-stands.  The 
rooms  have  floors  of  wood,  instead  of  dirt;  the  walls  are  white- 
washed ;  two  mirrors  and  a  buffalo-skin  lounge  adorn  the  sit- 
ting-room, and  generally  the  place  almost  ranks  as  respectable. 
Two  bright-eyed,  graceful,  copper-colored  senoritas  bring  me  a 
supper  of  coffee,  side  meat,  eggs,  and  tortillas  de  mais,  and 
entertain  me  with  a  voluminous  account  in  musical  Spanish  of 
their  personal  recollections  of  the  place.  I  have  learned  enough 
of  the  language  to  be  able  to  say  "ah,"  "yes"  and  "no"  at 
nearly  the  right  place,  and  that  is  the  most  required  to  keep  a 
Mexican  woman  social.  My  companion,  jolly  drunk,  was  barely 
able  to  get  his  team  into  the  corral,  when  he  fell  back  into  the 
wagon  asleep,  and,  as  he  was  the  cook  of  our  outfit,  I  was 
obliged  to  stay  overnight  at  the  hotel.  Except  the  two  houses 
mentioned,  the  whole  town  is  of  a  uniform  dull  clay  color,  walls 
of  mud,  fences  of  mud,  door  and  window  casings  of  mud- 
colored  wood,  roofs  of  slightly  sloping  poles,  covered  with  earth 
two  or  three  feet  thick,  floors  of  native  earth  beaten  hard,  and 
nowhere  a  patch  of  grass  to  -relieve  the  wearied  eye.  No  words 
can  convey  to  an  Ohio  man  the  utter  dreariness  of  an  average 
New  Mexican  town. 

I  was  curious  to  know  the  meaning  of  the  name,  for  it  was 
the  first  Mexican  town  I  had  seen  which  was  not  named  after 
some  saint  or  angel.  They  have  the  saintliest  names  and  the 
most  unsaintly  looking  towns  of  any  people  I  know.  The 
words  mean  "  The  Descent,"  and  are  pronounced  altogether — 
Lavvahadda. 

We  left  La  Bajada  in  the  coolness  of  the  morning,  for  we  had 
got  down  to  a  warm  climate,  and  descended  a  gentle  slope  to 
the  valley  of  the  Rio  Grande.  The  river  was  as  great  a  disap- 
pointment as  most  of  the  towns  had  been :  broad,  swift  and 
muddy,  navigable  for  scows  and  flats  only,  and  at  this  season 
too  thick  to  swim  in.  The  rise  had  spoiled  the  usual  crossing 
place,  and  we  must  travel  down  the  river  two  days  to  Albuquer- 
que. We  left  the  Indian  pueblo  of  Santo  Domingo  some  three 
hundred  yards  to  our  right,  but  while  the  driver  jogged  along  at 


A   TALK    WITH    A   PUEBLO. 


483 


a  sobre  passo  gait  of  two  miles  per  hour,  I  left  the  wagon  for  a 
look  at  the  curious  town.  The  houses  differ  but  little  from 
those  of  the  Mexicans:  a  few  have  doors,  but  to  most  the 
entrance  is  on  top,  and  reached  by  a  ladder  or  rude  adobe  stair- 
way at  the  corner.  I  saw  but  few  men,  most  of  them  being  in 
the  fields  at  work,  as  these  Pueblos  are  a  very  industrious  race. 
Unlike  all  other  Indians  J  have  seen,  they  might  with  some 
truth  be  called  red,  their  complexion  being  almost  rosy,  at  least 
a  bright  mahogany  color.  Why  our  aborigines  were  first  called 
"  red  men  "  I  can't  imagine,  for  the  only  tribe,  except  these,  I 
ever  saw,  with  even  an  approach  to  red  in  their  faces,  were  the 
Chippewas,  of  Northern 
Minnesota.  One  man  of 
unusual  intelligence  ac- 
companied me  three 
miles  on  my  road.  He 
gave  his  name  as  Anto- 
nio Gomez,  and  we  car- 
ried on  a  lively  conver- 
sation, as  well  as  men 
can  who  have  but  four 
or  five  hundred  words 
in  common,  that  being 
about  the  extent  of  my 
Spanish.  He  described 
their  mode  of  irrigation 

and  stock-tending,  and  gathering  some  of  what  he  called  "flares 
amarillos  del  chaparral"  (yellow  flowers  of  the  large  greasewood), 
he  gave  me  to  understand  that  they  made  of  them  a  strong  tea 
which  was  good  for  "  mujeres,  muchachas,  mulas,  cabaUos  y  todos 
los  otros,"  (women,  children,  mules,  horses  and  every  other  thing). 
But  to  my  main  question:  " Pasar  quantos  anos  vienen  los  Pue- 
blos aquit"  (since  how  many  years  first  came  your  people  here  ?) 
he  laughed,  a  little  contemptuously  I  thought,  and  then  replied: 
"  Quien  sabe  f  Quisas  doce  quinientos!  "  (Who  knows  ?  Perhaps 
a  dozen  times  five  hundred  !)  From  the  frequent  use  of  this  word, 
quinientos,  I  was  led  to  conclude  that  the  Pueblos  estimated  by 


PUEBLO    CACIQUE. 


484  DECREASE   OF   THE   PUEBLOS. 

five  hundreds  instead  of  thousands;  but  the  whites  best  ac- 
quainted with  them  tell  me  that  they  are  rarely  able  to  count 
beyond  a  hundred,  and  generally  reckon  only  by  tens.  Any 
number  beyond  a  hundred  is  "infinity"  or  "eternity,"  and 
vaguely  expressed  by  the  word  quinientos. 

Three  miles  brought  us  down  into  a  beautiful  vega,  contain- 
ing some  two  miles  square  of  rich,  natural  meadow  on  which 
the  Pueblos  had  several  hundred  head  of  horses  and  mules. 
My  companion  pointed  out  with  some  pride  his  own  manada 
of  sixty  mules  and  mares,  attended  by  his  three  boys,  and 
urged  me  to  stop  at  his  rancheria  and  take  dinner.  But  ap- 
pearances were  not  inviting,  so  I  plead  no  tiempo,  and  hurried 
on  after  the  team,  Antonio  leaving  me  with  a  friendly  grasp 
and,  "Addio,  Senor,pasa  buenas  dies."  (May  you  pass  good  days.) 
A  little  farther  on  we  drove  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  the 
river,  where  almost  the  whole  village  of  Pueblos  were  hauling 
a  rude  seine.  They  held  up  some  good-sized  fish,  shouting  the 
price;  but  on  my  declining,  waved  me  off  with,  "  Buena  Jornada, 
Sefior  /"  (A  good  journey,  sir.) 

The  slow  but  steady  decrease  of  the  Pueblos  is  attributed  by 
different  persons  to  many  different  causes.  I  think  it  is  largely 
owing  to  the  system  of  intermarriage  pursued  in  each  pueblo 
("village").  The  authorities  have  assigned  to  each  a  sort  of 
reservation,  generally  six  miles  square,  as  they  are  scattered  in 
every  part  of  the  Territory  and  mingled  among  the  Mexican 
towns.  This  makes  of  each  one  an  isolated  community  sepa- 
rated by  many  miles  of  Mexican  country  from  any  other  pue- 
blo, and  left  to  its  own  population  exclusively  for  society.  The 
Indians  of  one  know  little  or  nothing  of  those  of  another. 
Many  of  them  number  no  more  than  two  or  three  hundred 
inhabitants  each,  and  in  this  small  number  the  same  families 
have  married  back  and  forward  for  hundreds  of  years  till  every 
member  of  the  community  is  some  akin  to  every  other  member. 
Degeneration  and  decay  are  the  inevitable  results.  To  speak 
bluntly,  the  stock  needs  a  new  graft.  This  "marrying  in  and 
in"  is  a  Spanish  custom,  also,  and  the  Mexicans,  who  cannot 
plead  necessity,  consider  such  marriages  rather  preferable. 


A  WIFE'S  RELATIONS. 


485 


Young  Americans  who  take  Mexican  wives  sometimes  discover 
this  fact  in  a  rather  ludicrous  manner.  In  the  small  towns  every- 
body seems  to  be  some  akin,  and  relationship  is  a  great  thing 
with  the  Mexicans,  calling  of  course  for  extensive  hospitality. 
So  the  newly  made  wife  brings  up  a  gang  approximating  to 
hundreds,  and  introduces  the  husband  to  her  primer o,  and  her 
segundo  and  her  tercero  (first,  second  and  third  cousins),  till  he 
is  frantic  at  the  thought  that  he  has  married  the  whole  infernal 
community. 

Santo  Domingo  is  the 
point  where  the  Atlantic 
and  Pacific  Railroad — as 
at  present  surveyed — is 
to  reach  the  Rio  Grande, 
greatly  to  the  disappoint- 
ment of  Albuquerque. 
The  road  crosses  the 
mountain  and  enters  this 
valley  along  the  Galis- 
teo  River.  Instead  of 
crossing  the  Rio  Grande 
Valley  at  right  angles, 
as  had  been  expected,  the 
road  will  enter  at  Santo 
Domingo,  and  thence  run 
south  through  Albuquer- 
que to  Isletta,  some  four- 
teen miles  further  south, 
and  there  cross  the  river. 
The  charter  is  so  worded 
as  to  give  the  road  other 

lands  in  the  Territory  in  lieu  of  those  already  occupied  along  its 
line;  and  the  Register  estimates  its  total  grant  in  New  Mexico 
at  eleven  million  acres,  or  one-seventh  of  the  Territory.  But 
he  adds  this  comfort:  "Real  estate  in  New  Mexico  has  in- 
creased in  value  more  than  eleven  million  dollars  in  the  last 
twenty-four  hours,  owing  to  the  definite  location  of  this  road 


MY  RELATIONS,   SIB." 


486  APPEARANCE  OF  THE  COUNTBY. 

and  it  would  be  difficult  to  estimate  the  benefit  that  will  result 
to  the  Territory  from  its  completion." 

We  pass  the  little  pueblo  of  San  Felipe,  and  from  this  vega 
rise  on  to  another  desert — for  ten  miles  the  same  eye- weary  ing 
panorama  of  dry  sand,  dark  gray  rock  and  treeless,  grassless 
mesa,  the  whole  uninhabited  and  uninhabitable.  About  3  P.  M., 
we  descend  to  another  oasis  of  two  or  three  square  miles,  where 
we  spend  the  night  at  the  town  of  Algodonas.  All  that  I  had 
previously  seen  of  unsightly  Mexican  towns  is  eclipsed  by  this 
straggling  row  of  unburnt  brick  kilns,  walls,  fences,  houses, 
fields  and  corrals  of  dried  rnud.  My  companion  had  fortunately 
got  sober  enough  to  cook  our  dinner  (or  supper  rather)  while  I 
hunted  for  some  additions  to  our  fare,  which  consisted  of  army 
bread,  pork,  coffee  and  potatoes.  I  found  three  luxuries  for 
sale :  vino  de  pais,  (native  wine,)  eggs  and  goafs  milk.  My 
soldier  took  the  milk  by  choice,  but  I  confined  myself  to  the 
eggs  and  wine  with  the  regular  fare.  After  supper  I  ran  about 
town  till  I  found  one  intelligent  citizen,  who  gave  me  much 
information  about  the  country,  in  a  mixture  of  French  and 
Spanish.  "  When  will  the  Thirty-fifth  parallel  road  be  built  ?  " 
and  "Will  New  Mexico  be  admitted  soon  as  a  State?"  were 
the  questions  on  which  he  earnestly  desired  information.  He 
set  forth  the  arguments  for  a  State  Government  at  great  length. 
The  strongest  in  his  estimation  seemed  to  be,  "  The  rich  (los 
ricos)  are  all  in  favor  of  it."  As  they  must  pay  the  expense, 
he  thought  they  should  have  whatever  they  wanted. 

We  were  off  at  six  next  morning,  and  a  few  miles  from  Algo- 
donas entered  the  great  oasis  of  Albuquerque,  the  largest 
body  of  fertile  land  in  New  Mexico.  For  nearly  a  hun- 
dred miles,  with  slight  breaks,  extends  the  fertile  valley 
of  the  Rio  Grande,  varying  from  two  to  eight  miles  wide. 
In  this  portion  an  acecquia,  taken  out  of  the  river  above,  runs 
along  the  bluffs,  from  which  side  ditches,  one  every  furlong  or 
oftener,  convey  the  water  among  the  fields.  There  we  see  ridges 
of  dirt  thrown  up,  dividing  each  field  into  little  squares,  of 
some  five  rods  each,  to  hold  the  water.  The  labor  of  irrigating 
.seems  to  me  much  greater  than  in  Utah.  In  places  the  careless 


CULTIVATION. 


487 


ALGODONAS. 

natives  have  allowed  the  ditches  to  break  and  overflow  the 
road  for  hundreds  of  yards,  irrigating  it  into  a  bed  of  mud, 
which  the  teamster,  borrowing  a  term  from  theology,  pro- 
nounced a  work  of  super-irrigation.  In  comparison  with  the 
Btcrile  mesas  we  had  crossed,  this  fertile  strip  seemed  a  very 
Eden.  Wheat,  which  at  Santa  Fe  was  just  high  enough  to 
give  a  faint  tinge  of  green,  was  here  a  foot  high,  rank  and 
thrifty.  We  were  twenty-two  hundred  feet  lower  than  that 
city,  and  in  a  climate  at  least  ten  degrees  warmer.  Not  more 
than  one-fifth  of  the  whole  area  of  New  Mexico  is  fit  for  culti- 
vation. Even  of  that  so  fit,  not  more  than  half  lies  in  a  posi- 
tion to  be  irrigated,  with  the  present  system.  But  that  which 
is  fertile  is  exceedingly  so.  The  Valley  of  the  Rio  Grande 
here  is  as  productive  as  the  Valley  of  the  Nile ;  and  most  of 


488  DESCRIPTIVE. 

the  mountains  and  highlands  are  of  some  value  for  pasturage. 
For  five  miles  before  reaching  Albuquerque,  our  road  is  through 
a  highly  cultivated  country,  containing  some  vineyards  and 
many  shade  trees,  forming  an  agreeable  contrast  with  the  rest 
of  the  country.  In  most  of  these  towns  one  sees  no  shade  trees, 
no  rills  of  sparkling  water  coursing  the  streets,  as  in  Utah  and 
Colorado.  The  Mexicans  only  care  to  live ;  they  have  little  or 
no  conception  of  beauty. 

One  might  almost  say  that  the  valley  of  the  Rio  Grande  is 
New  Mexico,  just  as  that  of  the  Nile  is  Egypt;  for  outside  of 
it  nine-tenths  of  the  country  is  either  totally  barren  or  fit  only 
for  pasturage.  All  the  important  towns  are  in  that  valley  or  in 
some  tributary  thereto,  and  one  may  ride  from  El  Paso  to  Taos 
through  a  tolerable  continuous  line  of  settlements,  while  to 
cross  the  country  from  east  to  west,  he  will  often  travel  for  days 
together  over  barren  mesas,  without  sight  of  a  dwelling. 

At  noon  of  a  broiling  day  we  turned  westward  across  the 
valley,  finding  a  delightful  place  of  rest  in  the  only  grove  I  had 
seen,  towards  what  appeared  from  a  distance  as  another  array 
of  "green"  brick  yards;  but  which  is  located  on  the  map  as 
Albuquerque.  Among  the  little  farms  near  the  city  the  in- 
habitants were  repairing  their  fences,  as  usual  just  before  the 
summer  drought.  A  box-frame,  some  two  feet  square  and  a 
foot  deep,  with  no  bottom,  was  placed  upon  the  ground  and  fil- 
led with  tough  mud  mingled  with  a  little  grass ;  then  the  frame 
being  lifted,  left  a  section  of  the  wall  in  place  to  be  hardened 
and  whitened  (a  little)  by  the  sun.  Successive  blocks  were  stacked 
on  each  other  till  the  fence  was  four  or  five  feet  high.  Such  a 
mud-wall,  with  the  ditch  by  it  from  which  the  dirt  was  taken, 
is  the  only  fence  you  will  see  in  days  of  travel  on  the  Kio 
Grande. 

Albuquerque  is  the  coming  town  of  New  Mexico,  if  it  has  a 
coming  town,  which  I  am  much  inclined  to  doubt.  Here  the 
Atlantic  and  Pacific  road  will  bisect  a  community  of  one  hun- 
dred thousand  people,  who  will  purchase  yearly  ten  or  twenty 
million  dollars  worth  of  goods ;  asd  the  general  trade  of  the 
country  will  double  in  a  few  years  after  the  road  is  built.  But 


A   REST   ON    THE   JOURNEY. 


489 


ALBUQUERQUE  CATHEDRAL. 

an  American  can  not  live  here  as  a  farmer  now ;  as  in  Utah,  he 
can  not  compete  with  the  natives.  They  can  live  too  cheap. 
The  city  is  some  two  hundred  years  old  and  contains  nearly  two 
thousand  inhabitants.  Here  is  the  finest  church  in  New  Mexico 
— that  is,  a  stately  pile  of  adobes,  with  two  lofty  whitewashed 
towers.  This  is  said  to  be  a  more  moral  town  than  Santa  Fe. 
Bernalillo,  a  few  miles  up  the  river,  is  the  prettiest  town  in  the 
valley  and  the  residence  of  the  wealthiest  man  in  New  Mexico, 
Don  Jose  Leandro  Perea,  whose  wealth  is  estimated  at  two 
million  dollars.  That  town  and  Albuquerque  have  some  pre- 
tensions and  are  almost  equal  to  country  towns  in  Indiana. 
The  wealthy  families  have  whitewashed  houses,  stone  window 
sills,  pine  floors,  sometimes  carpets,  and  live  perhaps  as  well  as 
ordinary  farmers  in  Ohio.  Most  of  the  people  were  peons  until 
the  American  occupation,  and  though  nominally  free  are  nearly 
as  much  subject  to  the  will  of  los  rieos  as  ever. 

My  soldier  concluded  to  stop  here  till  Sunday  "to  rest  the 
mules,"  assuring  me  by  so  doing  we  could  reach  "Wingate  in 
four  days  more,  though  we  had  one  desert  and  two  mountainous 
ridges  to  cross.  Most  of  the  way  we  will  be  on,  or  near,  the 
exact  line  of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific. 


490  JUNE   RISE  OF  THE   RIO  GRANDE. 

Friday  afternoon  and  Saturday  I  rested,  wrote  and  rambled 
in  the  queer,  flat  old  city,  calling  also  on  the  padre,  who  is 
usually  the  most  intelligent  man  in  a  Mexican  town.  All  the 
acting  padres  are  now  French  or  Irish ;  the  native  Mexican 
priests  have  been  retired,  whether  on  half-pay  or  not  I  did  not 
learn.  The  padre  gave  me  many  facts  :  that  the  oasis  of  Albu- 
querque was  some  eighty  miles  long,  and  averaged  four  miles 
wide,  and  that  it  was  now  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  since  the 
Spanish  Duke  of  Albuquerque  encamped  on  this  spot,  though 
the  city  is  not  so  old.  His  family  title  in  full  was  Don  Al- 
phonso  Herrera  Ponto  Delgado  de  Albuquerque.  I  asked  the 
padre  "  what  was  his  front  name,"  but  he  did  not  seem  to 
know.  His  descendants  now  belong  to  the  genie  fina,  that  is 
to  say,  the  first  families  before  mentioned  (F.  F.  N.  M.),  people 
who  have  the  sangre  azul  in  their  veins.  We  smile  at  the 
solemn  humbug  of  these  people,  who  are  so  exclusive  on  ac- 
count of  what  somebody  did  two  or  three  centuries  ago  ;  but  it 
is  really  matter  of  curious  thought  that  there  were  considerable 
cities  and  Spanish  temples  in  New  Mexico  before  any  of  our 
pioneers  had  crossed  the  Alleghanies. 

The  vicinity  is  pretty  well  cultivated,  but  the  people  are  very 
poor,  pious  and  contented.  A  palacio  of  dried  mud,  a  meal  of 
corn  and  pimiento,  and  a  slip  of  corn-shuck  filled  with  tobacco 
and  rolled  into  a  cigarette,  is  the  Light  of  a  "Greaser's7' 
ambition. 

On  the  26th,  we  left  Albuquerque,  just  as  the  Sunday  amuse- 
ments began.  They  usually  have  splendid  cathedral  services 
in  the  morning,  a  dog-tussle  about  noon,  and  a  cock-fight  later 
in  the  day.  In  the  evening,  if  reflective,  the  " Greaser" 
smokes  cigarettes  and  meditates ;  if  sentimental,  he  goes  court- 
ing. My  soldier  was  sober  again,  by  chance,  and  eager  to 
start,  while  I  felt  refreshed,  and  ready  for  the  desert. 

The  "  June  rise "  of  the  Eio  Grande  (El  Rio  they  call  it 
there — "The  River")  had  come  on  a  week  or  two  earlier  than 
common,  and  a  vast  bayou  covered  two-thirds  of  the  "bottom" 
between  the  city  and  the  main  channel.  In  this  we  encoun- 
tered dangerous  whirls  and  jump-offs,  the  wagon  often  plunging 


"ABOUT  so  HIGH."  491 

in  up  to  the  bed,  and  two  or  three  times  the  little  lead  mules 
were  obliged  to  swim  a  rod  or  so.  When  we  reached  the 
narrow  strip  of  high  ground  near  the  river,  the  whole  popula- 
tion of  the  string-town  opposite  were  collected  on  the  bank, 
on  their  way  to  the  Cathedral  and  other  Sabbath  amusements. 
Half  a  dozen  families  were  laboring  across  in  their  own  skiffs, 
while  the  main  ferry  flat  was  loaded  to  the  guards.  The 
women,  in  gay  robes  and  black  rebosos,  were  laughing,  shout- 
ing and  singing,  while  the  men  screamed,  swore  and  shouted 
directions  all  at  once  to  the  four  boatmen,  and  the  flat  drifted 
in  circles  down  the  swift  current.  Fortunately,  the  actual 
channel  is  not  more  than  two  hundred  yards  wide,  and  the  flat 
only  descended  half  a  mile  in  making  the  passage.  A  boat 
load  of  Mexicans  on  the  way  to  church  can  make  more  noise 
than  two  circus  shows.  Having  passed  the  main  current,  the 
ferrymen  jumped  overboard,  and,  wading  up  to  their  armpits, 
with  tow  ropes  on  shoulder,  hauled  the  flat  to  shore.  This 
trifling  incident  is  a  beautiful  illustration  of  the  Mexican  style 
of  doing  everything. 

Once  landed,  the  male  passengers  took  to  the  bayou  without 
a  thought  for  their  summer  pantaloons ;  but  the  women,  being 
gaily  dressed  for  church,  dropped  upon  the  grass,  snatched  off 
their  under  clothing,  raised  their  dresses  "  about  so  high,"  and 
waded  to  town  with  the  utmost  nonchalance,  laughing,  chatter- 
ing, and  singing  hymns  to  the  Virgin !  Here  and  there  was 
seen  a  youth  of  unusual  filial  piety,  carrying  his  mother  astride 
his  shoulders ;  but  most  of  the  women  encountered  the  difficul- 
ties of  the  way  with  a  hardihood  fully  equal  to  that  of  the  men. 

Two  hours  of  Mexican  awkwardness  set  us  across,  and  we 
left  the  west  bank  for  the  sand  hills  just  as  the  great  bell  of 
the  adobe  Cathedral  was  calling  these  copper-colored  Christians 
to  morning  mass.  The  western  hills  looked  bad  enough  from 
the  town,  and  more  than  kept  their  promise.  One  mile  across 
the  valley  brought  us  to  the  first  mesa,  not  more  than  fifty  feet 
above  the  river,  and  covered  for  four  or  five  miles  with  a  toler- 
able growth  of  greasewood,  cactus  and  bunch-grass,  indicating 
some  fertility.  Then  we  entered  upon  another  gradual  ascent 


492  THIRST. 


ABOUT   SO  HIGH.' 


of  some  three  miles,  and  were  fairly  on  the  desert — miles  on 
miles  of  sand,  gravel,  rock  and  hard,  bare  earth.  The  heat 
was  most  intense,  and  till  late  in  the  afternoon  but  little  air 
was  stirring.  At  2  P.  M.,  having  gained  the  highest  point  of 
the  day's  route,  we  were  forced  to  stop  a  while  to  catch  a  little 
of  what  air  was  going.  Loosing  the  harness  from  the  mules, 
the  driver  and  myself  took  refuge  under  the  wagon — the  only 
chance  for  shade.  The  sky  above  us  was  molten  brass,  the 
angry  sun  glared  upon  a  blistering  white  plain  near  us,  which 
rolled  away  in  successive  ranges  of  yellow  hills,  without  a 
patch  of  green,  save  far  to  the  east,  where  a  faint  tinge  marked 
the  course  of  the  Rio  Grande.  Oh,  to  be  on  its  green  banks 
once  more !  To  us  it  seemed  more  to  be  desired  than  Abana 
and  Pharpar,  or  all  the  rivers  of  Judea  and  Damascus.  The 
place  we  occupied  seemed  sacred  to  the  genius  of  drought  and 
desolation.  The  driver,  with  the  usual  improvidence  of  the 
regular  soldier,  had  secured  but  one  canteen,  which  was  ex- 
hausted by  noon,  though  the  water  was  almost  simmering. 

He  suggested  bacon  rind  to  mitigate  thirst,  and  though 
directly  contrary  to  what  I  had  expected,  it  proved  quite  effica- 
cious. Paring  all  the  meat  off,  and  scraping  the  outside,  we 
placed  small  portions  of  the  clean  rind  in  our  mouths,  where  £ 
vigorous  chewing  soon  created  moisture  enough  to  give  a  sensi- 
ble relief.  Soldiers  in  this  Territory  tell  me  they  have  gon< 


WATER  FOUND.  493 

two  days  without  water,  and  avoided  any  serious  suffering  by 
this  simple  expedient.  A  piece  of  silver,  or  small  splinter  of 
mountain  pine,  held  in  the  mouth  and  rolled  about  with  the 
tongue,  is  often  used  for  the  same  purpose. 

In  an  hour  the  evening  wind  rose,  and  we  moved  on.  At  5 
P.  M.,  we  reached  a  down  grade,  and  saw  on  the  western  horizon 
a  straggling  line  of  dwarf  pines,  indicating  the  course  of  the 
Puerco.  Our  mules  showed  new  life,  gave  a  grateful  whinny, 
and  broke  into  a  trot.  Fortunately  we  found  some  water  still 
in  the  channel,  though  fast  sinking.  Three  weeks  ago  the  Rio 
Puerco  (Spanish  for  "  Hog  River ")  was  a  torrent;  one  week 
more,  and  it  will  be  a  resaca  ("  dry  channel ").  It  runs  but 
two  months  in  the  year ;  at  other  times,  travelers  must  hunt 
along  the  dry  channel  till  they  find  a  brackish  pool,  or  dig  in 
the  river  bed.  The  water  looked  exactly  like  dirty  milk,  and 
its  temperature  was  about  70° ;  but  it  was  grateful  enough  to 
us.  The  driver  drank  two  quart  cups  of  it  in  ten  minutes,  and 
the  poor  animals  crowded  down  the  only  accessible  place,  and 
shoved  each  other  into  the  stream  in  their  eagerness  to  get  at 
the  dirty  fluid.  Fortunately  the  dirt  which  gives  color  to  the 
water  is  so  fine,  that  one  cannot  feel  it  grit  in  his  teeth,  and 
aside  from  the  earthy  taste,  the  water  is  not  disagreeable. 

The  immediate  valley  of  the  Puerco — what  we  Hoosiers 
would  call  the  "  bottom  " — is  about  two  miles  wide,  and  has 
every  sign  of  great  natural  fertility.  The  soil  is  black,  and  as 
loose  as  any  part  of  the  Wabash  "  bottoms ; "  water  alone  is 
lacking.  In  early  March  the  mountain  snows  send  down  a 
flood  of  water,  and  the  whole  valley  is  covered  with  green  grass, 
which  endures  till  near  the  1st  of  May.  Then  all  moisture 
disappears  except  the  river  channel ;  the  plain  changes  from 
green  to  striped,  from  striped  to  yellow,  and  from  yellow  to 
velvet,  and  finally  dirty  brown.  The  grass,  dead  ripe,  drops 
its  seed  in  the  deep  cracks  produced  by  the  sun's  heat,  and  is 
blown  out  by  the  roots,  and  the  whole  plain  becomes  a  bed  of 
black  dust,  seamed  occasionally  by  cracks  in  which  a  good- 
sized  child  might  be  lost.  Ten  years  before,  the  Mexicans 
attempted  to  settle  it ;  built  a  dam.  to  retain  the  spring  freshet, 


494 

and  constructed  half  a  dozen  adobe  houses  near  the  road.  But, 
on  account  of  their  usual  awkwardness,  their  dam  was  destroyed 
by  the  first  freshet,  their  acequia  was  dry  the  1st  of  June — just 
when  they  needed  it — the  impractical  "  Greasers"  gently  com- 
plained to  Nuestra  Madre  de  dolores,  and  abandoned  the  settle- 
ment. We  spread  our  blankets  in  one  of  their  abandoned 
domoSj  and  passed  a  comfortable  night.  The  head  of  the 
Puerco,  it  is  said,  is  only  a  few  hundred  yards  from  the  main 
head  of  the  San  Juan,  a  perennial  stream,  and  a  canal  to  irri- 
gate this  entire  valley  could  be  constructed  for  ten  thousand 
dollars.  The  fertility  of  these  valleys,  when  irrigated,  is  won- 
derful, and  the  reclamation  of  the  hundred  or  more  sections  on 
the  Puerco  for  the  above  sum  would  be  very  cheap. 

From  the  "Hog  River "  we  have  twenty-six  miles  more  of 
desert,  totally  destitute  of  water ;  hence  we  turn  out  at  2  P.  M., 
and  are  on  the  road  by  moonlight.  All  that  which  yesterday 
looked  so  drear  is  enchantingly  lovely  by  the  clear  light  of  a 
New  Mexican  night  sky,  and  the  turbid  Puerco  now  seems  like 
a  current  of  molten  silver.  There  is  but  one  place  in  which  it 
can  be  crossed,  the  channel  being  some  twenty-five  feet  deep  and 
not  more  than  fifty  wide  at  the  top  of  the  bank.  It  had  fallen 
six  inches  during  the  night,  leaving  but  three  feet  of  water  (a, 
rod  or  two  wide),  from  which  my  companion  inferred  that  it 
would  be  totally  dry  in  less  than  a  week.  Thence  we  rise  again 
to  another  desert,  and  in  ten  miles  reach  the  ancient  border  of 
the  Navajoes,  (or  Navahoes,  if  spelled  as  pronounced,)  a  series 
of  rugged  gulches  and  narrow  cafLons,  bounded  by  perpendicular 
walls  of  yellow  soapstone.  They  run  from  north  to  south,  and 
form  a  break  in  the  road  something  near  a  mile  wide,  evidently 
the  bed  of  a  long  extinct  river.  Wash  gravel  and  marine  shells 
are  heaped  in  fantastic  piles  by  the  wind.  The  deepest  is  known 
as  Dead  Man's  Cafion,  where  are  buried  twenty  whites  massacred 
many  years  ago  by  the  Navajoes.  This  tribe  was  long  the  terror 
of  Northwestern  New  Mexico.  They  were  slowly  depopu- 
lating the  outer  Mexican  settlements,  when,  in  1864,  General 
W.  H.  Carleton  organized  his  grand  campaign,  and  reduced  them 
to  perfect  submission.  A  party  of  them  overtook  us  at  the  Rio 


DARWINIAN  THEORY.  495 

Grande,  one  chief  and  eleven  warriors,  who  had  been  down  to 
the  Coraanche  country  on  a  stock  stealing  expedition,  and  at  the 
caflon  we  learned  that  they  had  passed  westward  some  hoars 
before  us,  having  made  the  forty-four  miles  afoot  in  a  little  over 
one  day.  They  got  no  horses  and  had  some  men  wounded. 
Many  apprehensions  were  expressed  by  the  Mexicans  that  the 
tribe  would  soon  go  on  the  war  path,  as  their  crops  were  a  total 
failure  the  previous  year,  and  no  appropriation  having  been 
made  for  this  deficiency,  they  must  steal  or  starve. 

By  our  early  start  we  escaped  the  midday  heat  upon  the  desert, 
but  the  drying  air  produced  strange  effects.  My  nose,  lips,  and 
wrists,  which  blistered  yesterday,  peeled  to-day,  and  I  started  to 
grow  a  new  cuticle  on  those  members.  My  nose  was  coloring 
like  a  new  meerschaum,  forming  a  very  striking  feature  of  my 
countenance.  How  convenient  it  would  be,  sometimes,  if  man 
could  sprout  new  members  in  place  of  lost  ones,  as  a  lobster 
does  his  claw,  or  a  bee  its  sting.  But  then  we  don't  seriously 
need  such  a  faculty,  or  we  should  have  it.  According  to  Dar- 
win, all  that  is  necessary  is  to  be  placed  in  a  condition  where  it 
is  a  sort  of  necessity,  and  cultivate  the  desire  for  it  a  few  hun- 
dred or  thousand  generations,  and  the  faculty  will  spontaneously 
develop.  Beautiful  theory ! 

From  Dead  Man's  Caflon  we  ascend  a  gentle  slope  and  travel 
some  twelve  miles  through  a  wide  pass,  almost  level,  bounded 
north  and  south  by  abrupt  mountain  spurs,  which  show  indica- 
tions of  iron  ore  in  great  abundance.  Thence  down  a  gentle 
slope,  where  the  earth  is  red  with  iron  (sesquioxide),  we  enter  a 
vast  baked  plain  of  barren  clay,  as  hard  as  the  sun's  rays  can 
make  it.  On  the  western  side  of  the  plain  appears  a  slight 
depression  of  most  inviting  green,  containing  probably  five 
sections  of  exceedingly  fertile  land.  North,  south  and  west 
of  it  rise  mountain  ridges,  with  hollows  scantily  clothed  with 
grass,  and  just  this  side  of  the  oasis  on  the  baked  plain — for  they 
can  not  afford  to  build  on  fertile  soil — stands  the  Mexican  ham- 
let of  El  Rito  ("  Little  River").  We  had  made  our  day's  drive 
of  twenty  six  miles  by  noon.  Before  leaving  Santa  Fe  I  had 
procured  an  enlarged  map  of  New  Mexico,  which  had  numerous 


496  EL  mm 

streams  located  all  through  this  country ;  but  in  place  of  water, 
in  three  fourths  of  them,  I  found  a  channel  of  shifting  sand, 
which  had  evidently  been  subjected  to  the  action  of  water  once, 
but  whether  one  month  or  a  thousand  years  ago,  I  could  not 
determine.  My  entertaining  companion,  who  had  made  at  least 
three  distinct  remarks  since  leaving  Albuquerque,  here  suggested 
that  my  map  was  made  in  February  or  March,  when  all  these 
gulches  do  run  great  torrents  of  water.  As  he  said  this  in  per- 
fect innocence  and  good  faith,  it  amounted  to  a  pretty  good 
thing  for  him  to  say.  Of  all  the  employments  on  top  of  ground 
I  think  private  soldiering  in  this  country  most  completely  dries 
up  the  mental  fluids.  Some  of  these  streams  run  as  long  as  six 
weeks,  and  the  rest  of  the  year  are  dry  beyond  an  Ohioan's 
conception.  They  call  them  here  arroyos  or  resacas. 

El  Rito  is  a  strange,  old,  isolated  Mexican  town,  away  out  on 
the  edge  of  the  desert,  twenty-five  miles  from  the  nearest  neigh- 
bor; and  yet  it  is  a  century  old,  and  has  doubtless  contained 
the  same  families — perhaps  forty  in  all — during  all  that  time. 
No  church,  no  school,  no  papers,  no  books,  or  very  few,  to  intro- 
duce a  new  idea;  but  family  concerns,  town  concerns,  the 
winter's  rain  and  the  spring  rise ;  the  rare  passage  of  a  Govern- 
ment train,  and  the  rarer  visit  of  the  itinerating  padre  to  bap- 
tize the  children  and  confess  and  absolve  the  elders,  make  up 
their  little  world  of  incidents.  The  oasis  is  plowed  with  a 
sharpened  log,  well  seasoned  and  hewn  into  the  shape  of  an 
Irish  spade,  and  the  crops  tended  with  hoe  and  rake ;  while  the 
goats,  sheep,  and  asses  are  pastured  in  the  mountain  hollows, 
and  the  hens  live  upon  crickets  and  earth  worms.  If  the 
family  burro  (donkey)  does  not  die,  if  the  goats  do  well,  if  the 
water  is  sufficient  for  enough  of  mais  and  chile  Colorado,  and  the 
hens  lay  eggs  enough  to  send  off  by  the  weekly  peddler,  and 
procure  a  little  tobacco  and  flowered  calico,  then  Quien  quicre 
por  mas?  (Who  cares  for  more?)  In  this  little  community  of 
degenerate  Spaniards  A's  children  have  married  B's  children, 
and  vice  versa,  and  in  the  next  generation  double-cousins 
married  double-cousins,  for  a  hundred  and  fifty  years,  till  the 
wine  of  life  has  run  down  to  the  very  lees  and  flows  dull  in 


RELATIONSHIP. 


497 


MEXICAN  FARM  HOUSE. 

sluggish  veins  for  want  of  a  vitalizing  current  of  alien  blood. 
Every  person  in  the  settlement  is  some  akin  to  every  other  per- 
son in  it ;  and  the  miserable  Spanish  custom  of  "  marrying  in- 
and-in,"  which  has  destroyed  the  Hidalgoes  of  old  Spain,  is 
here  made  tenfold  worse  by  necessity.  In  the  whole  Territory 
this  custom  prevails  with  best  families,  and  the  gente  fina  of 
New  Mexico  have  paid  a  fearful  price  for  that  sangre  azul  of 
which  they  boast.  El  Rito  might  plead  necessity  for  the  custom, 
but  inexorable  nature  does  not  accept  such  an  excuse.  Occasion- 
ally a  benevolent  American  wanders  this  way,  and  if  his  stay 
be  long  enough,  does  something  toward  improving  the  race; 
and  it  is  but  simple  justice  to  our  countrymen  to  state  the  fact, 
that  the  residence  of  even  one  of  them  in  a  Mexican  hamlet  is 
pretty  sure  to  be  followed  in  the  next  generation  by  children  of 
improved  physique,  with  the  light  hair  and  Saxon  features 
which  mark  the  superior  race. 

While  the  soldier  secured  his  train  in  the  public  corral,  I 
walked  about  the  dry  and  flinty  streets,  contemplating  the  sore- 
eyed  children,  measly  chickens  and  sick  goats,  reposing  together 
on  the  shady  side  of  the  clay  walls,  with  an  eye  of  curious  pity. 
32 


498  AN   AMERICAN   FROM   TIPPERARY. 

The  men  and  larger  boys  were  at  work  in  the  public  field,  or 
tending  flocks  among  the  hills ;  the  women  asleep,  or  sitting  on 
the  dirt  floor  smoking  cheroots  of  corn  shuck  and  tobacco,  and 
the  whole  juvenile  population  looked  to  me  like  a  miserable 
batch  of  rags,  sore  eyes,  and  sin.  There  was  not  a  tree,  a 
flower,  or  a  spear  of  grass  in  the  place.  Those  persons  I 
spoke  to  were  even  too  lazy  to  understand  Spanish — as  I 
spoke  it,  anyhow.  They  only  grunted,  "No  sabe"  and  point- 
ing to  a  rather  superior  adobe  on  the  hill,  remarked,  "Alii,  un 
Americano." 

Thither  I  went,  and  found  an  "American"  indeed.  His 
name  was  Ryan,  and  he  was  "  from  Tipperary,  indade." 
However,  he  spoke  English  and  Spanish  fluently,  and  gave  me 
much  valuable  information.  He  drifted  in  there  six  years  ago, 
liked  it,  married  a  Mexican  woman,  had  several  Pueblo  ser- 
vants and  a  flock  of  sheep,  and  was  general  advisor,  advocate 
and  scribe  for  the  settlement.  A 'delegation  of  Pueblos  from 
the  next  town  were  at  his  house  to  complain  of  the  Navajoes, 
who  had  been  stealing  their  stock,  and  to  seek  redress.  He 
took  me  to  the  public  /oncfa,  where  I  got  a  good  supper  of 
goat's  milk,  tortillas  and  eggs,  and  a  clean  room,  and  spent  the 
evening  quite  pleasantly.  The  nights  there  are  delightful ;  a 
little  too  cool  toward  morning,  perhaps,  for  comfortable  sleeping 
in  the  open  air,  but  with  abundant  blankets  we  did  well.  The 
entire  mountain  range  southwest  is  said  to  be  a  mass  of  min- 
erals, coal,  iron,  and  copper.  It  is  a  region  of  curiosities.  In 
the  next  valley  south  is  the  largest  one  of  the  abandoned  cities 
of — whom  !  Qiden  sabe,  is  the  universal  answer  of  Mexican 
and  Indian.  Most  of  the  houses  there  are  of  sawed  stone. 
Three  miles  ahead,  and  on  our  road,  is  the  noted  Pueblo  de 
Laguna,  probably  the  best  built  of  all  the  Montezumas  towns. 

This  pueblo,  ("  town  of  the  lake,")  is  so  called  because  in 
ancient  times  a  vast  causeway  extended  across  the  upper  part 
of  the  valley,  which  was  constructed  by  the  Pueblos,  to  retain 
the  winter  floods  for  summer  irrigation,  creating  a  lake  several 
miles  in  extent.  The  road  from  El  Rito  runs  around  in  a 
regular  U  for  seven  miles  to  get  up  to  the  next  higher  valley ; 


HOUSES   ON   THE    ROCKS.  499 

but  there  is  a  rocky  trail  straight  up  through  one  of  the  moun- 
tain passes  which  reaches  the  town  in  three  miles,  and  this  I 
followed,  gaining  some  two  hours  on  the  team  by  that  and  my 
early  start.  The  sun  was  just  rising  as  I  entered  the  pueblo, 
and  the  inhabitants  were  mostly  on  the  house-tops  preparing 
their  implements  for  the  day's  work.  The  town  is  situated 
upon  the  east  end  of  an  oval  rock  or  mole,  some  two  miles  long, 
and  rising  gradually  at  each  end  to  a  hight  of  a  hundred  feet 
above  the  bordering  plain.  The  top  is  comparatively  level,  and 
the  sides  fall  off  in  a  succession  of  abrupt  benches,  each  a  yard 
or  so  in  width  and  hight,  rendering  the  whole  place  a  splendid 
natural  fortification.  On  these  rocks  the  Pueblos  first  built  for 
protection,  and  are  slow  to  change,  though  in  the  present 
lengthy  peace  some  of  them  are  beginning  to  build  out  on  the 
farm.  I  had  met  the  Cacique  of  this  pueblo  the  day  before  at 
Kyan's,  in  El  Rito,  and  been  introduced  to  him.  He  is  one  of 
the  most  intelligent  of  the  race;  spoke  Spanish  fluently,  and  a 
little  English.  He  treated  me  with  rare  courtesy,  and  by  many 
cross-questionings,  gestures  and  repetitions  we  managed  to  con- 
verse with  interest.  Unlike  all  other  Pueblos  I  had  met,  he 
seemed  to  have  some  definite  idea  of  the  antiquity  of  his  race 
and  their  origin.  He  gave  me  to  understand  that  from  the 
traces  in  Arizona  and  this  Territory,  they  must  have  come 
originally  from  the  west,  and  had  always  been  at  war  with  other 
Indians.  Slowly  repeating  the  few  words  of  English  he  could 
command — "All 'e  times  war;  no  times  peace;  all 'e  times 
Pueblos7  house  on  rock,  no  times  on  field  " — he  swept  his  hand 
in  great  circles  to  indicate  a  vast  and  indefinite  lapse  of  time. 
He  then  had  recourse  to  many  gestures  and  voluminous  Span- 
ish, of  which  I  understood  but  little,  and  that  seem  to  imply 
that  many  hundred  miles  west  of  here  I  would  find  Pueblos 
"  away  up  on  steep  rocks/'  where  they  could  only  get  up  and 
down  by  ladders. 

Many  of  the  houses  have  a  second  story,  not  more  than  half  or 
one-third  as  extensive  as  the  lower  one ;  and  some  few  have  a  sort 
of  tower,  or  third  story,  on  top  of  the  second.  To  this  I  several 
times  signified  a  desire  to  ascend,  but  the  Cacique  either  did  not 


500  RELIGION   OF   THE   PUEBLOS. 

understand  me,  or  did  not  see  fit  to  grant  my  request.  Unedu- 
cated and  semi-barbarous  people  as  they  are,  themselves  destitute 
of  the  intelligent  curiosity  of  the  civilized  man,  can  not  under- 
stand the  existence  of  it  in  him,  and  nearly  always  attribute  its 
manifestation  to  some  mean  or  possibly  hostile  motive.  Gener- 
ally the  Pueblos  dislike  to  have  white  visitors;  few  of  them  are 
communicative  to  one  who  asks  many  questions,  and,  long  as 
the  Zuni  branch  of  the  race  has  been  in  contact  with  the  whites, 
I  am  told  there  is  very  little  positively  known  about  them. 
Still  less  do  they  appreciate  any  religious  motive;  to  them  a 
people's  religion  is  their  property,  just  as  their  land  or  houses 
are,  and  a  part  of  their  customs,  like  their  wars  and  dances. 
Hence,  they  at  first  distrust  religious  teachers  or  visitors  more 
than  any  one  else.  For  these  reasons  the  accounts  of  mission- 
aries, especially  their  first  accounts,  among  any  barbarous 
people,  must  be  received  with  great  caution.  It  is  nearly  or 
quite  impossible  to  make  an  Indian  understand  why  any  one 
should  want  him  to  give  up  his  religion  and  adopt  that  of  an- 
other;  he  can  not  assign  any  probable  motive  for  such  solicitude, 
and  invariably  concludes  there  must  be  a  swindle  in  it  some- 
where. He  will  readily  acknowledge  that  the  white  man's 
religion  is  true  and  good — for  the  white  man.  And,  of  course, 
the  Indian's  religion  is  equally  true  and  good — for  the  Indian. 
There  had  been  trouble  in  this  pueblo  lately  on  religious 
matters,  though  I  could  not  fully  understand  the  merits  of  the 
case.  It  seems  that  when  the  Spanish  Jesuits  "converted" 
these  people,  some  two  centuries  ago,  they  found  it  impossible  to 
eradicate  entirely  the  Montezumas  faith,  and  so  made  a  com- 
promise. They  gave  them  the  Catholic  religion,  with  its  most 
impressive  ceremonies,  and  permitted  them  to  keep  all  their 
Montezumas  customs  which  did  not  amount  to  actual  idolatry. 
These  consisted  mostly  of  dances  and  feasts  at  stated  times, 
which  had  more  of  a  national  than  a  religious  significance.  But 
since  Governor  Arny  took  charge  of  them  an  attempt  has  been 
made  to  convert  them  to  Protestantism,  and  this  has  created 
difficulties  among  themselves.  Since  visiting  that  pueblo,  I 
have  learned  there  was  a  white  man  there  teaching,  though  I 
did  not  see  him. 


MATERIALS   OF   THE   HOUSES. 


501 


To  attempt  their  conversion  to  Protestantism  in  their  present 
grade  of  intelligence  seems  to  me  rather  premature :  the  bare 
suggestion  of  reasoning  with  such  a  people  about  the  "  real 
presence/'  "immaculate  conception,"  grace,  free  will  and  pre- 
destination, involves  an  exquisite  absurdity.  Morally,  the 
Pueblos  are  doing  well :  the  men  are  ten-fold  more  honest,  and 
the  women  a  hundred-fold  more  virtuous  than  are  the  Mexi- 
cans. This  is  not  only  my  own  observation,  but  the  opinion  of 
every  one  I  have  talked  with  who  knew  them. 

The  houses  of  the  pueblo  are  massive  and  solidly  built  of 
stone,  cement  and  occasionally  adobes ;  it  is  better  built  than 
any  of  the  Mexican  towns  I  have  seen,  except,  perhaps,  Santa 
F  e  and  Al  buquerque. 
Struck  by  the  appearance 
of  the  massive  timbers 
used  for  joists  in  the 
Cacique's  house,  I  asked 
how  they  were  obtained, 
and  was  informed  that 
they  were  brought  with 
burros  from  the  moun- 
tains ten  miles  distant. 
They  could  scarcely  have 
been  transported  on  the 
backs  of  these  little  don- 
keys ill  the  Mexican  fash- 
ion, and  as  the  Pueblos 

own  no  carts,  I  wonder  how  they  brought  them.  The  joists 
were  large  as  ordinary  house  sills  in  the  States,  which  I  judged 
to  be  for  the  better  support  of  the  upper  stories,  as  I  noticed  the 
walls  of  these  in  some  instances  not  continuous  with  or  resting 
on  the  walls  below,  but  built  directly  across  and  over  the 
rooms.  The  interior  of  the  lower  rooms  was  whitewashed  and 
pleasantly  neat,  but  in  and  about  many  of  the  houses  was  an 
unpleasant  odor  of  green  hides,  which  were  hanging  near,  this 
being  a  general  butchering  time  with  them.  Their  windows 
are  made  of  a  material  they  call  acquarra — a  kind  of  isinglass,  I 


PUEBLO  MAIDEN. 


502  "MOUND  BUILDERS." 

think,  translucent  but  not  transparent.  It  lights  the  interior 
nearly  as  well  as  glass.  The  Cacique  spoke  with  some  pride  of  the 
many  cattle,  sheep  and  goats  owned  by  his  town,  and  then  broke 
out  into  bitter  complaints  of  the  Navajoes,  who  had  lately  stolen  a 
dozen  horses  and  ten  cattle  from  them.  The  Pueblos  have  always 
been  at  peace  with  the  whites,  except  the  brief  period  of  the 
rebellion  against  the  Spaniards  in  1680— '90,  and  from  time  im- 
memorial have  had  the  same  customs,  and  the  same  grade  of 
civilization  as  now.  They  did  not  learn  it  from  the  Spaniards; 
they  dwell  in  the  same  houses  and  use  substantially  the  same 
implements  as  before  the  latter  came— the  only  change  being* 
that  in  some  cases  they  fasten  timber  with  iron  where  they  for- 
merly used  seasoned  wood.  Their  women  are  neat  and  modest. 
The  children  mostly  go  naked  to  the  age  often  or  twelve  years, 
and  are  hardy  and  well  formed.  All  ages  and  sexes  have 
splendid  teeth — perfect  rows  of  pearls.  No  one  can  tell  the 
age  of  this  town  ;  it  was  here  when  the  Spaniards  came,  and  has 
been  here,  the  Indians  say,  ever  since  their  grandfathers  had 
any  account.  Some  twenty  miles  south  is  the  ancient  Aztec 
city  of  Sobieta,  which  has  been  in  ruins  from  the  earliest  historic 
times.  Many  of  the  houses  were  constructed  of  square  stones, 
which  even  now  show  marks  of  the  saw ;  others  of  flat  stones 
laid  in  mortar,  and  some  apparently  of  timber  and  adobe,  though 
but  the  merest  outlines  of  these  remain. 

All  the  towns  show  their  people  to  have  lived  in  a  state  of 
continual  warfare.  New  Mexico  is  notable  as  being  the  only 
part  of  our  country  in  which  a  civilization  has  been  once  estab- 
lished and  completely  overthrown.  I  might  say  twice  estab- 
lished and  the  second  time  decayed,  for  it  now  seems  to  me  that 
these  New  Mexicans  must  be  far  inferior  to  their  Spanish  an- 
cestors, and  that  they  are  still  retrograding. 

Modern  research  Mas  done  much  to  clear  up  the  mysteries  of 
this  region,  and  from  more  thorough  exploration  of  Yucatan  and 
South  America  we  may  yet  learn  the  true  history  of  the  Aztecs 
and  the  "  Mound  Builders."  The  subject  is  full  of  interest,  but 
it  is  a  melancholy  interest.  It  has  about  it  much  of  that  feeling 
which  results  from  the  contemplation  of  decay  and  ruin.  There 


RELICS   OF  PAST  AGES.  503 

is  an  eloquence  in  decay,  but  it  is  a  sad  eloquence ;  and  growth 
has  more  of  vital  interest  than  decline,  even  as  we  gaze  with 
more  pleasure  upon  the  robust  boy  than  upon  the  decrepid  old 
man.  But  I  am  powerfully  impelled,  as  I  look  upon  these 
relics  of  age,  to  ask :  Is  this  the  necessary  fate  of  all  peoples,  all 
civilization  ?  Must  all  grow  old,  become  effete,  and  wither  and 
die  like  an  individual,  while  genius,  learning  and  progress  take 
their  flight  to  other  lands?'  And  must  we,  too,  cover  our  land 
with  connecting  lines  of  wire  and  rail,  and  build  cities  and 
temples,  only  that  thousands  of  years  hence  another  people  may 
dig  among  our  ruins,  and  wonderingly  inquire  of  us  and  our 
works  ?  Even  if  our  civilization  survive,  some  day  our  Nation, 
our  Government  must  pass  its  manhood,  grow  old,  decay  and 
perish — perhaps  in  a  sea  of  blood  !  History  teaches  this  as 
truth,  and  we  can  only  sigh  with  the  poet: 

"  Yes,  come  it  must,  the  day  decreed  by  fates — 
How  my  heart  trembles  while  my  tongue  relates — 
When  thou,  beloved  State,  thyself  must  bend, 
And  see  thy  warriors  fall,  thy  glories  end." 

Something  less  than  three  hours  had  passed  at  the  pueblo 
when  our  team  moved  on.  The  road  runs  partly  over  the  east 
end  of  the  rocky  mole,  on  which  the  pueblo  stands,  and  thence 
along  its  northern  side,  and  we  descended  into  a  beautiful  and 
fertile  valley,  some  five  miles  long,  the  common  property  of  the 
Pueblo.  The  place  has  a  population  of  at  least  eight  hundred, 
and  the  valley  does  not  contain  more  than  twelve  sections  of 
arable  land ;  but  they  cultivate  it  closely,  and  there  being  abun- 
dant water  for  irrigation,  it  produces  amazingly.  Wooden 
plows  were  running,  breaking  up  the  ground  for  late  crops,  arid 
on  the  adjoining  hills  I  saw  extensive  herds  of  goats  and  sheep 
attended  by  young  Pueblos. 

Crossing  this  oasis  we  entered  another  broad  cafion,  which 
we  followed  for  some  ten  miles  to  the  town  of  Cubero,  somewhat 
better  than  the  ordinary  Mexican  hamlet.  It  is  built  on  a 
series  of  shelving  rocks;  some  of  the  dwellings  were  of  stone, 
nearly  all  had  stone  floors,  and  the  place  seemed  literally  bask- 


504  PUEBLOS   ON   A   SPREE. 

ing  under  the  fierce  rays  of  a  New  Mexican  sun.  There  is  no 
part  of  America  which  so  exactly  answers  the  best  descriptions 
of  Syria  as  western  New  Mexico.  There  are  the  same  yellow 
and  striped  mountains,  seamed  and  scarred  as  if  blasted  by  a 
million  years  of  storm  and  lightning;  the  same  canons  with 
perpendicular  walls,  and  stifling  with  hot,  stagnant  air,  and  the 
same  dry  sands  and  white  deserts  and  treeless,  grassless  mesas. 
And  here  and  there,  too,  are  fertile  oases,  where  privileged  na- 
ture seems  to  have  exhausted  the  resources  she  denied  to  all  the 
rest  of  the  land  ;  rich  valleys,  that  return  a  hundred-fold  for  the 
husbandman's  seed,  and  over  all  a  sky  of  dazzling  purity,  with 
moonlight  at  times  so  bright  that  one  can  read  ordinary  print. 
And  here  and  there  among  the  mountains,  in  the  dryest  and 
most  unexpected  places,  springs  bubble  out  and  cool  water  drips 
over  the  rocks,  and  green,  rank  grass  covers  a  plat  of  an  acre  or 
two  with  rare  beauty,  all  the.  more  enchanting  for  the  surround- 
ing desolation.  At  certain  points,  too,  one  finds  square  wells  as 
large  as  an  ordinary  dwelling,  cut,  as  it  were,  down  into  the 
solid  rock,  with  a  never-failing  supply  of  water;  and  these  be- 
come places  of  renown,  historic  spots,  the  boundaries  of  little 
nations  or  communities,  council  grounds  and  camping  places  of 
repute  in  every  part  of  the  country. 

But  among  these  mountains  New  Mexico  has  what  Syria  has 
not:  a  supply  of  minerals  that  will  bring  the  energy  of  the 
nation  here  and  create  a  third  civilization  which  Apache  and 
Navajo  can  not  destroy.  As  regards  agriculture,  the  country 
West  does  not  contain  arable  land  enough  to  supply  garden-sauce 
to  an  average  population,  such  a  population  as  will  some  day 
be  at  work  among  the  mines.  At  Cubero  \ve  found  another 
party  of  Pueblos  on  a  general  spree.  One  able-bodied  "buck" 
was  staggering  along  the  street,  while  his  wife  followed  close 
beating  him  in  the  back  and  head  with  the  butt  end  of  a  wagon 
whip — literally  "  taking  him  home;"  while  most  of  the  Mexican 
population,  those  who  were  not  asleep,  were  out  laughing  at  the 
sport.  Women's  rights  prevail  extensively  among  the  Pueblos. 

Thence  we  passed  another  low  "divide,"  from  which  five 
miles  brought  us  down  into  another  oval  valley  and  to"Mc- 
Carty's  Ranche,"  where  we  stopped  for  the  night. 


A   LONELY   WIDOW.  505 

McCarty  is  a  wandering  Irishman,  drifted  into  these  moun- 
tains and  settled,  and  married  of  course  to  a  Mexican  woman. 
I  found  her  far  superior  to  most  of  her  race,  speaking  English 
fluently.  As  I  sat  in  the  shade  of  the  house  taking  sketches 
of  mountain  and  valley,  I  was  surprised  at  the  appearance  of  a 
beautiful  little  girl  of  two  or  three  years,  with  soft  golden  hair 
and  that  beautiful  English  fairness  and  transparency  of  com- 
plexion which  so  soon  attract  the  traveler  among  the  dark  races. 
I  called  her  to  me  in  English ;  she  came,  but  replied  to  my 
questions,  0,  un  hombre  Americano,  and  ran  away  to  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  hacienda,  where  a  young  American  lady  ap- 
peared. I  was  amazed  at  seeing  her  in  that  place,  and  noted 
the  singular  deference  with  which  all  the  Mexicans  regarded 
her.  Next  morning,  having  learned  that  I  was  a  journalist,  she 
met  me,  and  explained  the  fact  of  her  being  there.  She  was 
the  daughter  of  an  old  United  States  army  officer,  and  was 
married  very  young  to  a  Scotchman  named  Dennis  Landry. 
He  was  trading  in  western  New  Mexico,  and  she  had  accom- 
panied him  thus  far,  when  two  months  before  he  left  Blue- 
water  (Agua  Azul)  to  return  to  McCarty's,  and  had  never  been 
seen  since  by  whites.  His  wife  employed  the  friendly  Pueblos 
to  hunt  for  traces  of  him,  and  they  soon  brought  conclusive 
proof  that  he  had  been  murdered  by  the  Navajoes.  Indeed, 
the  individual  who  did  the  killing  had  since  acknowledged  the 
fact  in  Cubero.  But  there  seems  no  convenient  way  to  get  at 
these  cases,  where  an  individual  of  a  friendly  tribe  murders  a 
white.  The  murderer  simply  goes  to  some  other  tribe,  or  be- 
becomes  a  "  dog  soldier,"  at  large  in  the  mountains  ;  the  friendly 
tribe  either  deny  his  guilt  entirely,  or  profess  a  willingness  to 
give  him  up,  if  he  can  be  caught.  Mrs.  Landry  informed  rne 
she  had  spent  the  last  two  months  here,  lonely  enough,  but  still 
hoping  to  recover  the  remains  of  her  husband,  "  for/7  she  con- 
tinued, "why  should  I  go  to  Santa  Fe,  or  farther  East?  All 
places  are  equally  lonesome  now.  I  am  as  well  here  as  there." 
Such  tragedies  occur  everywhere  on  the  border,  and  communi- 
ties necessarily  become  hardened  and  indifferent  while  individuals 
continue  to  suffer. 


506  LAVA   ROCK. 

The  fertile  valley  in  which  McCarty's  Ranche  is  situated,  and 
which  is  to  be  traversed  by  the  Thirty-fifth  parallel  road,  gradu- 
ally narrows  westward,  and  a  gorge  not  more  than  two  hundred 
yards  wide  opens  into  another  valley.  The  last  three  miles  of 
the  former  valley  is  mostly  marsh,  and  thither  the  officers  from 
Wingate  often  go  to  hunt  ducks.  At  the  west  end  rise  the 
springs  which  water  the  valley.  They  boil  out  from  under  the 
rock  half  a  dozen  streams  of  cold,  clear  water.  But  a  few  rods 
from  them  the  lava  beds  begin.  As  I  walked  over  the  plain, 
it  looked  as  if  the  lava  had  just  cooled.  I  could  see  all  the 
little  waves  and  ripples  in  its  surface,  and  near  the  springs  it 
had  evidently  overflowed  in  successive  layers,  each  an  inch  or  so 
thick,  the  lower  cooling  a  little  before  the  one  above  it  was  de- 
posited. In  places  these  folded  layers  had  been  broken  directly 
across,  folded  and  contorted,  leaving  singular  gaps  and  fissures, 
the  sides  of  which  appeared  coated  in  places  with  lime  or  sul- 
phur, and  in  others  by  what  looked  like  red  sealing-wax  turned 
to  stone.  Where  contorted  or  twisted  the  lava  rock  presented 
precisely  the  same  appearance  as  if  one  should  lay  down  success- 
ive folds  of  tarred  canvas  till  the  pile  was  ten  or  twelve  feet 
thick,  and  then  roll  the  mass  over  and  over  and  into  long  heaps. 
Some  extensions  of  this  twisted  mass  reached  even  to  the  edge 
of  the  springs,  and  I  saw  indications  where  it  had  overflowed 
into  the  pools;  but  most  of  the  way  across  the  valley  one  could 
trace  the  division  between  the  lava  and  the  original  rock  base 
on  to  which  it  had  flowed  as  easily  as  with  a  daub  of  mud 
thrown  upon  the  floor  of  a  house.  By  a  rise  of  perhaps  ten  feet 
we  entered  upon  this  mala  pais,  and  soon  came  to  where  the 
lava  was  not  in  waves,  but  seemed  to  have  cooled  in  a  mass, 
presenting  a  granulated  appearance,  much  like  cooling  sugar; 
and  a  little  farther  we  found  it  light  and  frothy  looking,  as  if  a 
hot,  foaming  current  had  cooled  to  stone,  porous  and  spongy 
like  pumice-stone.  A  mile  westward  brought  us  out  into  the 
broader  valley,  and,  looking  backward,  it  seemed  to  me  that  the 
lava  flow  had  been  choked  in  the  narrow  pass  about  the  time 
the  supply  was  exhausted.  Five  miles  over  the  level  land 
brought  us  to  another  descent,  leading  down  into  another  oval 


BUSHELS   OF  GRAIN.  507 

plain ;  and,  running  in  a  serpentine  course  across  it,  I  saw  a 
shining  line  which  I  judged  to  be  water — the  irregular  course 
of  some  mountain  stream.  But  it  soon  appeared  too  dazzlingly 
bright,  and  we  found  it  only  a  narrow,  dry  gulley,  bottom  and 
sides  crusted  with  salt  and  alkali,  painful  to  the  eye  and  tortur- 
ing to  the  sense.  A  little  water  runs  there  in  winter,  just  enough 
to  bring  down  the  alkali  from  the  mountains. 

I  can  not  account  for  the  singular  succession  of  valleys,  or 
passes,  like  vast  sunken  river  beds,  on  this  route.  For  a  hun- 
dred and  twenty  miles  from  Albuquerque,  except  at  Dead  Man's 
Canon  and  the  moderate  ridge  just  west  of  the  Rio  Grande, 
there  is  no  rise  of  more  than  ten  feet  which  is  not  gained  by  a 
grade  gentle  enough  for  a  railroad.  From  the  lava-beds,  or 
mala  pals,  to  Wingate,  we  are  continually  in  this  sunken  chan- 
nel, which  only  widens  to  a  great  oval  at  Agua  Azul;  and  soon 
after  we  strike  the  Puerco  of  the  West,  which  furnishes  the 
same  succession  of  passes  down  to  the  Little  Colorado.  Nature 
has  certainly  given  the  railroad  a  wonderful  way  of  passage 
here,  whether  she  has  furnished  the  natural  wealth  to  make  it 
profitable  or  not.  Owing  to  these  openings  there  is  not  a  serious 
obstacle  or  even  a  difficult  "  cut  "  or  "  fill "  for  over  two  hun- 
dred miles  west  of  the  Rio  Grande. 

From  the  plain  of  the  mala  pais  we  descend  a  little  into  Red 
Valley,  about  Agua  Azul.  It  is  walled  in  by  fearfully  abrupt 
mountains  of  black  and  red  stone  in  an  irregular  circle,  and  is 
about  five  miles  by  three,  containing  at  least  eight  sections  of 
land  of  the  utmost  fertility.  Near  the  bordering  mountains  the 
soil  is  red,  giving  name  to  the  valley  and  the  central  butte,  but 
lower  down  it  is  dark.  Running  water  was  found  only  at  the 
southwest  corner  of  the  valley,  and  there  M.  Provencher  first 
began  to  cultivate  the  soil,  when  he  established  the  ranche  four 
years  before.  The  yield  from  this  soil  of  volcanic  origin  was 
astonishing;  wheat  produced  thirty-six  bushels  per  acre ;  corn 
thirty-eight  fanegas  (a  fanega  is  136  pounds),  and  oats  grew  to 
the  hight  of  a  man's  head,  yielding  bounteously.  But  only  one 
crop  was  raised ;  then  the  dry  season,  which  has  lasted  for  three 
years  in  western  New  Mexico,  set  in ;  the  water  failed,  and  it 


508  VISIT   TO   THE   OLD    CRATER. 

is  found  that  even  that  small  stream  could  not  be  depended  on 
more  than  one  year  in  three.  Could  a  certain  supply  of  water 
be  obtained,  by  artesian  wells  or  otherwise,  this  little  valley 
would  support  a  community  of  two  thousand  people  in  affluence. 
Such  is  the  productiveness  of  this  soil,  where  it  is  productive  at 
all.  Though  but  one-tenth  of  the  surface  of  New  Mexico  can 
be  cultivated,  that  tenth  would  supply  abundance  for  a  million 
of  people. 

Fortunately  for  me,  though  unfortunately  for  the  soldier,  I 
had  plenty  of  time  to  examine  this  singular  basin.  For,  about 
3  o'clock  next  morning  we  were  awakened  by  a  terrible  racket 
and  barking  of  dogs,  just  in  time  to  see  that  our  mules  had 
broken  corral  and  were  lighting  out  toward  Wingate  with  a 
speed  which  showed  there  was  no  place  like  home  to  them. 
The  soldier  went  in  pursuit,  and  I  visited  the  Red  Butte  and 
old  crater  therein. 

The  butte  is  nearly  two  miles  long  and  a  mile  wide,  rising 
evenly  from  the  plain  on  every  side,  and  so  abruptly,  by  a  series 
of  "  benches  "  or  narrow  terraces,  that  it  can  only  be  ascended 
in  two  or  three  places ;  and  the  dimensions  on  top  are  only  one- 
fourth  less  than  at  the  bottom.  M.  Provencher's  theory  is  that 
the  entire  valley  was  the  original  crater,  bounded  only  by  the 
rocky  battlements  we  see  around  the  plain,  and  the  size  of  the 
present  crater  of  Kilauea.  But  when  the  volcano  was  nearly 
extinct,  the  internal  fires  having  died  out  sufficiently  for  a  solid 
crust  to  form  over  it,  another,  smaller  crater  formed  inside,  as  a 
vent  for  the  last  eruptions,  feeble  compared  with  those  preced- 
ing them.  From  the  plain  it  looks  as  if  the  top  of  the  butte 
were  level,  but  having  reached  it,  we  find  it  to  be  only  a  rim, 
an  exact  pattern  on  a  much  reduced  scale,  apparently,  of  the 
rim  of  the  main  valley.  Inside  the  rim  falls  off  in  abrupt 
cliffs,  rugged  knobs  and  jagged  spurs,  fifty  feet  or  more,  to  a 
sort  of  bowl-shaped  hollow.  This  looks  as  if  it  had  been  filled 
with  coal,  iron,  wood,  petroleum,  lead,  copper  and  scores  of 
combustible  minerals,  and  then  the  whole  subjected  to  a  blast 
furnace  until  nothing  was  left  but  debris  and  ashes.  This  is 
all  I  can  compare  it  to,  for  we  find  in  it  the  powdered,  burnt 


DISTANT   BELLS. 


509 


AGUA   AZUL   AND   RED   BTJTTE. 


and  carbonized  remains  of  nearly  everything  mineral.  If  I 
were  scientific — unfortunately  for  the  subject  I  am  not — I  could 
spend  a  week  in  the  gulch  of  this  butte;  but  as  it  is,  I  only  en- 
counter scores  of  things  which  excite  my  curiosity,  and  which 
I  have  not  science  enough  to  explain. 

The  evening  breeze  springs  up  as  we  sit  upon  the  lowest 
"bench"  of  the  butte,  and  sighs  among  the  crags  and  crevices, 
producing  imitations  of  the  sound  of  distant  bells.  I  have 
often  heard  travelers  speak  of  these  chimes  heard  upon  moun- 
tains and  table  lands,  but  had  never  noticed  them  before.  By 
a  little  effort  of  the  imagination  one  can  call  up  many  an  old 
familiar  chime,  though  sounding  dimly,  as  if  many  miles  away. 

At  midnight  the  soldier  returned,  hitched  up  at  daylight,  and 
in  a  steaming  state  of  military  wrath  whipped  his  mules 
through  the  forty-three  miles  to  Wingate  by  sundown.  Twenty 
miles  east  of  that  post  we  passed  the  dividing  summit  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  (or  Sierra  Madre;  both  names  are  used  in- 
differently there).  We  reach  the  western  slope  through  a  long 


510  A   SOLDIER   PUNISHED. 

pass,  in  many  respects  resembling  the  South  Pass  of  the  old 
California  trail.  It  is  simply  a  high,  barren  and  sandy  valley 
through  the  mountains,  bounded  on  the  north  by  almost  per- 
pendicular sandstone  cliffs  from  five  hundred  to  a  thousand  feet 
in  hight,  and  on  the  south  by  scantily  timbered  hills  which  rise 
one  above  another  to  the  highest  mountain  peak.  In  the  pass 
and  neighboring  hills  rain  is  frequent;  twenty  miles  east  or 
west  of  it  none  falls  for  three  or  four  months  at  a  time.  The 
Atlantic  and  Pacific  railroad  line  is  located  through  this  pass, 
and  the  grade  is  so  gentle  that  no  difficulties  are  met  with.  For 
three  hundred  miles  west  of  the  Rio  Grande,  nature  seems  to 
have  provided  a  series  of  valleys  especially  for  a  railroad.  The 
real  trouble  is  that  the  country  has  so  little  in  it  worth  building 
a  railroad  for.  It  is  a  splendid  country  to  travel  through ;  a 
miserably  poor  one  to  stop  in  to  make  a  "  stake." 

On  the  evening  of  May  31st,  we  drove  into  Wingate;  my 
soldier  "  reported  "  and  in  precisely  twenty  minutes  was  a  close 
prisoner  in  the  guard  house — "held  for  trial." 

"Charge — Unwarranted  disposition  of  stores  placed  in  his 
care."  "  Specification — In  this  that  the  said  Frank  Hamilton, 
being  entrusted  with  a  team  to  transport  one  thousand  pounds 
of  potatoes  from  Santa  Fe  to  this  post,  did  unwarrantably  dis- 
pose of  three  hundred  pounds  of  the  same  on  the  way,  etc.,  etc." 

He  was  found  guilty  of  this,  and  more;  and  during  my  stay 
I  was  daily  pained  at  sight  of  him  "cleaning  quarters"  with  a 
most  uncomfortable  bracelet  attachment  to  his  ankle. 

Take  him  for  all  in  all,  he  was  the  most  unfortunate  traveling 
companion  I  ever  had. 

Moral :  Don't  go  for  a  regular  soldier.  Or,  if  you  do,  don't 
trade  Government  potatoes  to  Mexican  women. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

AMONG   THE   NAVAJOES. 

At  Fort  Wingate— Natural  beauty— Wealth  of  nature— A  region  of  curiosities— 
The  Zunis— Their  wonderful  civilization— Canon  deChaco— San  Juan  ruins— 
On  to  Defiance — Navajo  history — Their  semi-civilization — Their  wars  with 
the  Spaniards— American  relations— Major  Brooks'  negro— Navajo  War— Sub- 
jugation and  decline — Their  return  and  progress — End  of  stay  at  Defiance — 
Sounds  of  wrath  from  Santa  Fe— Apology— An  original  "pome." 

IGHT  days  I  remained  at  Fort  Wingate,  and  enjoyed 
every  moment  of  the  time.  On  arrival  I  introduced 
myself  as  a  journalist  "surveying  the  line  of  the  Thirty- 
fifth  parallel  road,"  and  was  most  hospitably  treated 
by  the  officers'.  Having  letters  to  Lieutenant  S.  W. 
Fountain,  formerly  of  Pomeroy,  Ohio,  then  Commissary  of 
the  post,  he  made  me  exceedingly  comfortable  at  his  quarters, 
and  I  messed  with  him  and  Captain  A.  B.  Kauffmann,  of  the 
Eighth  Cavalry.  Lieutenant  Fountain  is  of  the  same  com- 
pany. I  am  also  under  many  obligations  to  Lieutenant  H.  R. 
Brinkerhoff,  formerly  of  Union  County,  Ohio.  He  assisted  me 
to  obtain  much  information  of  the  surrounding  country,  and  his 
estimable  lady  made  my  stay  more  like  a  renewal  of  "  home 
society"  than  one  would  have  thought  possible  in  the  wilder- 
ness. In  my  Western  wanderings  I  have  always  found  the 
United  States  Army  officers  gentlemen,  pleasant,  hospitable, 
and  well  posted  on  the  country  where  they  happen  to  be 
located.  Besides  these  mentioned  I  enjoyed  the  pleasant  ac- 
quaintance of  Lieutenant  D.  R.  Burnham,  of  Company  H.  Fif- 
teenth Infantry,  and  Dr.  R.  S.  Vickery,  Captain  and  Assistant- 
Surgeon  in  medical  charge  of  the  post,  both  Pennsylvanians. 

Fort  Wingate,  nearly  two  hundred  miles  west  of  Santa  Fe,  is 
a  "  four  company  post,"  but  had  then  only  three  companies,  viz : 

511 


512 


FORT   WINGATE. 


OFFICER'S   QUARTERS— FORT  WIXGATE. 

Campany  A,  of  the  Fifteenth  United  States  Infantry,  and  Com- 
panies E  and  K,  of  the  Eighth  United  States  Cavalry,  about  a 
hundred  and  fifty  men  in  all.  It  is  under  command  of  Brevet- 
Colonel  Wm.  Redwood  Price,  Major  of  the  Eighth  Cavalry, 
but  he  being  then  at  Tierra  Amarilla,  attending  to  the  difficul- 
ties with  the  Utes  there,  the  command  devolved  on  Captain 
A.  B.  Kauffmann. 

The  situation  is  beautiful,  about  twenty  miles  west  of  the 
dividing  summit  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  directly  at  the  head 
of  the  Rio  Puerco  of  the  West.  Along  this  stream  a  sloping 
valley  can  be  followed  down  to  the  Colorado  Chiquite  ("  Little"), 
and  down  that  to  the  main  Colorado — this  post  being  thus  on 
the  "  Pacific  slope."  Just  south  of  the  fort  rises  a  rugged  spur 
of  the  Sierra  Madre,  from  which  Bear  Spring  (or  Ojo  del  Oso) 
sends  out  a  cold,  clear  stream,  sufficient  to  turn  a  mill  wheel. 


MINERALS.  513 

A  branch  is  conducted  by  piping  to  the  central  portion  of  the 
fort,  where  a  commodious  bath-house  has  been  erected  by  the 
soldiers  for  general  use.  Most  of  the  water  is  drawn  into 
an  acecquia  and  conducted  to  the  common  field  on  the  plain 
below,  vyhere  the  companies  have  gardens  sufficient  to  supply 
them  with  vegetables  most  of  the  season.  When  not  used  for 
irrigation  all  the  water  sinks  before  running  two  miles,  owing 
to  the  singular  formation  of  this  region.  The  latitude  is  35°  28', 
the  longitude  108°  25'  ( W.  Greenwich),  and  the  elevation  6600 
feet  above  sea-level ;  hence  the  climate  is  about  the  same  as  at 
Santa  Fe — that  is  to  say,  with  pleasant  or  temperate  days  and 
nights  cool  enough  for  two  good  blankets.  (I  can  always  repre- 
sent temperature  by  bed-clothes  better  than  by  a  thermometer.) 
I  can  not  conceive  a  more  delightful  climate  for  the  three  sum- 
mer months.  The  atmosphere  is  singularly  clear,  and  distance 
very  deceptive.  The  country  about  is  practically  worthless  for 
agriculture,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  small  valleys,  and  in 
them  only  the  short-lived  vegetables  are  produced.  Corn  will 
not  ripen  at  all :  wheat  is  generally  cut  off  in  the  flower.  The 
grazing  is  good,  but  an  extensive  range  is  required  for  one  herd  ; 
the  grass  only  grows  once  in  the  season,  and,  like  these  mountain 
bunch-grasses  generally,  does  not  renew  itself  the  same  year. 

Every  mineral  known  to  science  is  found  in  these  hills. 
Gypsum,  salt,  and  iron  are  particularly  abundant.  A  short  dis- 
tance west  of  the  fort  is  a  whole  mountain  of  gypsum,  so  to 
speak — enough  to  bury  an  eastern  county.  Neither  gold  nor 
silver  has  been  found  in  paying  quantities.  Precious  stones 
of  various  kinds  have  been  found  near,  particularly  garnets  and 
turquoises.  Lieutenant  H.  R.  BrinkerhofF  has  a  large  collec- 
tion of  curious  stones,  picked  up  within  a  mile  or  two  of  the 
fort,  among  which,  I  think,  are  some  of  value. 

Magnetic  stones,  the  size  of  one's  fist,  can  be  had  by  the 
bushel.  Some  of  them,  when  thrown  loosely  upon  the  ground, 
will  roll  over  toward  each  other  till  they  gather  in  a  group. 
All  the  hills  are  covered  with  timber,  and  in  the  larger  canons 
is  abundance  of  pine  fit  for  lumber.  The  mountains  north  and 
east  present  the  appearance  of  a  succession  of  lofty  cones,  with 
33 


514 


DROUGHTS. 


here  and  there  an  oval  hill,  of  a  mile  or  two  in  length,  rising 
equally  on  every  side,  and  with  a  flat  mesa  on  top.  The  cliffs 
are  mostly  red  sandstone,  mingled  at  times  with  clayey  rock — 
perhaps  it  should  be  called  yellow  soap-stone.  Down  upon  the 
plain  the  soil  is  the  richest  kind  of  "wash  earth,"  composed  of 
the  detritus  of  the  volcanic  hills,  with  just  enough  of  clay  and 
decayed  sandstone  to  give  it  the  right  consistency,  with  every 
element  for  plant  growth  except  moisture.  But  such  plains 
occupy  less  than  one-fifth  of  the  country.  The  climate  is  very 

dry  and  equable.  One  heavy  rain 
fell  while  I  was  there,  the  first  of 
any  consequence  for  three  years.  The 
seasons  in  New  Mexico  generally  since 
1858  have  been  much  drier  than  ever 
before. 

When  I  firstJieard  of  this  "drought 
for  the  last  three  years"  at  Albu- 
querque, I  thought  it  was  merely  a 
local  fact ;  but  since  then  I  have  re- 
ceived the  same  testimony  from  every 
part  of  the  Territory,  and  along  the 
road  found  many  abandoned  ranches 
which  had  once  been  under  good  cul- 
tivation. The  Pueblos  at  San  Do- 
mingo and  Laguna  pointed  out  to  me 
dry  flats  which  they  said  had  been 
lakes  many  years  ago.  Is  Xew  Mex- 
ico then  gradually  losing  her  supply 

of  moisture  and  becoming  more  of  a  desert?  The  supposition 
is  directly  contrary  to  what  we  have  been  led  to  believe  of  all 
the  Territories,  except  Utah.  There  it  was  considered  a  settled 
fact,  before  1871,  that  the  amount  of  rain  was  steadily  and 
rapidly  on  the  increase.  It  is  evident  that  there  has  been  unu- 
sual drought  since  1858,  but  from  that  fact  old  residents  draw 
directly  opposite  conclusions.  Some  assert  that  this  country 
was  once  seasonable,  with  almost  as  much  rain  as  Ohio ;  and 
that  the  rain  zone  has  gradually  left  it,  and  by  slow  degrees  it 


DISTANT  VIEW  OF  ZUNI. 


ZUNI.  515 

is  relapsing  to  a  perfect  desert.  Others,  that  the  original  con- 
dition was  continuous  drought;  that  it  never  rained,  in  former 
times,  between  March  and  November;  that  some  thirty  years 
ago  the.climate  began  to  slowly  change  to  one  of  more  moisture, 
and  that  the  last  three  years  are  only  a  partial  and  temporary 
return  to  the  original  condition.  This  last  theory  has  some 
hard  facts  to  meet.  Here  and  there,  all  over  the  country,  are 
to  be  found  ruins  of  towns  and  acecquias  where  no  water  now 
runs  at  any  season  of  the  year.  Only  thirty  miles  southwest 
of  Wingate,  near  the  head  of  the  Little  Colorado  (you  will  find 
the  place  marked  on  Johnson's  map  as  "  Zuni  ruins  "),  is  a  val- 
ley some  forty  miles  long,  strewn  from  one  end  to  the  other 
with  fragments  of  Zuni  pottery  and  stone  and  adobe  work,  and 
yet  there  is  no  living  water  there  now ;  also,  among  the  Moqui 
villages  are  found  plains  showing  signs  of  having  once  been 
cultivated,  on  which  water  can  not  possibly  be  brought  at 
present  by  any  engineering  skill.  The  evidences  in  this  region 
certainly  are  that  New  Mexico  once  had  a  more  rainy  climate 
than  at  present. 

Wingate  is  the  center  of  a  region  full  of  curiosities.  Forty 
miles  west  is  the  great  Zuni  town,  an  enormous  pueblo — a  ter- 
raced building  of  five  stories — containing  a  thousand  half- 
civilized  Indians.  They  have  always  been  friendly  to  the 
whites,  but  showed  great  bravery  in  their  wars  with  other 
Indians.  They  cultivate  the  ground  with  great  skill,  pro- 
ducing abundance  of  corn,  wheat,  beans  and  melons.  Their 
wealth  is  in  sheep  and  goats,  blankets,  beads  and  pottery.  In 
this  great  human  hive  are  carried  on  all  the  complicated  con- 
cerns of  an  advanced  condition  of  life:  government,  manufac- 
tures, art  and  religious  rites. 

The  officers  from  Wingate  visit  them  often,  and  the  engineers 
on  the  railroad  line  speak  of  them  in  the  highest  terms.  Both 
sexes  are  strictly  virtuous,  any  departure  from-  chastity  being 
severely  punished.  They  formerly  had  the  art  of  writing,  but 
appear  to  have  lost  it  in  their  many  mutations.  They  preserve 
one  book,  but  the  last  man  who  could  read  it  died  many  years 
ago,  and  the  priests  regard  it  merely  as  a  holy  relic.  It  consists 


516 


INHABITANTS. 


simply  of  a  mass  of  finely  dressed  skins,  bound  on  one  side  with 
thongs  ;  the  leaves  are  thickly  covered  with  characters  and 
drawings  in  red,  blue  and  green  —  squares,  diamonds,  circles,  ser- 
pents, eagles,  plants,  flying  monsters  and  hideous  human  heads. 
One  of  their  Caciques  says  it  is  the  history  of  their  race,  and 
shows  that  they  have  moved  fourteen  times,  this  being  their 
fifteenth  place  of  settlement.  No  Spanish  priest  has  ever  been 
permitted  to  enter  their  town  ;  their  religion  appears  to  be  a 
mixture  of  Spiritism  and  Sabianism. 

They  are  quite  domestic 
in  their  tastes,  and  fond 
of  pets.  Turkeys  and  tame 
eagles  abound  among  them, 
living  about  the  terraces  of 
the  pueblo,  and  even  in 
their  dwellings.  They  are 
keen  traders,  and  have 
most  perfect  command  of 
their  features.  The  few  I 
saw  had  a  uniformly  sad, 
mild  expression  of  the 
eye,  but  were  quick  in 
motion,  well-made  and 
rather  graceful.  Unfortu- 
nately I  was  compelled,  for 
company's  sake,  to  take  a 
route  north  of  Zuni  ;  and 
did  not  know  its  value  to 
the  explorer  till  I  had 
passed  westward. 

A  hundred   miles  north 

of  Wingate  are  the  great  ruins  on  the  De  Chaco  river,  supposed 
to  be  those  of  the  "Seven  Cities  of'Cibola"  (See-vo-la)  ;  and 
north  of  those,  on  the  San  Juan  in  Colorado,  the  ruins,  as 
supposed,  of  Quivira,  a  fortified  city  of  the  Aztecs.  One  of  the 
walls  still  stands,  five  hundred  feet  in  length,  with  joinings  as 
true  and  smooth  as  in  any  of  our  buildings.  They  were  constructed 


STORY  OF  ZUNI. 


THE   NAVAJOES.  517 

of  hard  sandstone,  and  enclosed  a  city  of  at  least  ten  thousand 
people. 

Farther  west  are  the  "Cliff  cities"  of  Canon  de  Chelley, 
which  I  visited,  and  many  others;  and  southeast  are  Sobieta 
and  still  more  extensive  ruins.  At  least  a  quarter,  possibly 
half  of  a  million  people  devoted  to  agriculture,  once  occupied 
the  system  of  valleys  opening  upon  the  San  Juan.  They  are 
gone  long  ago,  and  their  places  are  occupied  by  the  nomadic 
races :  Utes,  Navajoes  and  Apaches.  The  streams  upon  which 
they  depended  dried  up,  and  cultivators  necessarily  yielded  to 
hunters  and  shepherds;  just  as  we  find  wandering  Arabs 
encamped  in  the  ruins  of  Baalbec  and  Palmyra,  or  barbarous 
nomads  wandering  over  the  once  populous  and  fertile  Baby- 
lonia. 

The  dominant  race  of  this  section  are  the  Navajoes,  who  roam 
over  a  country  three  hundred  miles  from  east  to  west,  and 
nearly  two  hundred  from  north  to  south.  They  are  a  most  in- 
teresting race  of  barbarians,  though  savage  in  war  and  somewhat 
inclined  to  thieving.  They  and  the  Apaches  have  been  at  war 
from  time  immemorial.  The  Navajocs  are  splendid  specimens 
of  physical  humanity — the  finest  race  of  Indians  I  ever  saw, 
except,  perhaps,  the  Chippewas,  of  Northern  Minnesota.  These 
are  the  first  Indians  I  have  met  who  have  not  the  stereotyped 
"Indian  face" — the  face  we  have  heard  described  so  often, 
either  overcast  with  a  stern  and  melancholy  gravity,  or  lively 
only  with  an  uncertain  mixture  of  cunning  and  ferocity.  Their 
countenances  are  generally  pleasing,  even  mild  and  benevolent. 
They  have  many  young  fellows  whose  faces  show  the  born 
humorist.  Wit,  merriment  and  practical  jokes  enliven  all  their 
gatherings,  and,  quite  contrary  to  our  ideas  of  IndiaUfcharacter, 
they  laugh  loud  and  heartily  at  everything  amusing.  They  are 
quite  inquisitive,  too,  and  seem  vastly  pleased  to  either  see  or 
hear  something  new.  Both  men  and  women  work,  and  are 
quite  industrious  until  they  have  accumulated  a  fair  share  of 
property;  then  they  seem  content  to  take  things  easy.  In  short, 
they  are  as  much  unlike  the  "stage  Indian,"  and  as  much  like 
a  tribe  of  dark  Caucasians  as  it  is  possible  to  conceive. 


518 


WEAVING. 


NAVAJO   LOOM. 


Their  handiwork  is  very  ingenious.  They  make  pottery  like 
that  of  the  Pueblos,  from  whom  it  is  supposed  they  learned  the 
art.  Their  blankets  are  the  wonder  of  all  who  see  them.  They 
are  woven  by  the  squaws  in  a  rude  frame,  and  are  so  compact 
that  water  can  be  carried  in  them  four  or  five  hours  before  it 
begins  to  leak  through.  One  woman  was  engaged  near  the 
Fort  in  weaving  an  unusually  fine  blanket  for  one  of  the  officers, 
and  though  I  watched  the  process  for  an  hour  at  a  time,  cannot 
fully  describe  it.  A  large  stout  beam  is  fastened  firmly  to  the 
joists  of  the  hut,  or  to  the  limbs  of  a  tree,  as  they  often  do  all 
the  weaving  out  doors.  From  this,  by  a  leathern  loop  at  each 
end,  is  suspended  a  "turn-stick/'  about  the  size  of  one's  wrist. 
A  similar  beam  below  is  fastened  in  the  ground  or  floor,  and 
from  it  another  "turn-stick"  is  suspended  by  loops.  On  the 


DURABLE   BLANKETS.  519 

two  sticks  the  warp,  or  "chain,"  is  stretched  very  tight,  the  two 
sets  of  strands  crossing  in  the  middle.  This,  with  two  loose 
sticks,  dividing  the  "  chain,"  and  a  curved  board,  looking  like 
a  barrel  stave  with  the  edges  rounded,  constitute  the  entire 
loom.  The  squaw  sits  before  this  with  her  balls  of  yarn  for 
"  filling"  conveniently  arranged,  works  them  through  the  strands, 
and  beats  them  firmly  together  with  the  loose  board,  running  it 
in  between  the  strands  with  singular  dexterity.  The  woolen 
yarn  for  "filling"  is  made  from  their  own  sheep,  generally,  and 
is  of  three  colors,  black,  white  and  red  from  native  coloring. 
Running  these  together  by  turns,  with  nimble  fingers  the  squaw 
brings  out  on  the  blanket  squares,  diamonds,  circles  and  fanciful 
curves,  and  flowers  of  three  colors,  with  a  skill  which  is  simply 
amazing.  Two  months  are  required  to  complete  an  ordinary 
blanket,  five  feet  wide  and  eight  long,  which  sells  from  fifteen 
to  fifty  dollars,  according  to  the  style  of  materials.  A.t  the 
Fort,  officers  who  wish  an  unusually  fine  article,  furnish  both 
"  chain  "  and  "  filling,"  but  those  entirely  of  Navajo  make  are 
very  fine.  One  will  outlast  a  lifetime;  and  though  rolled  in  the 
mud,  or  daubed  with  grease  for  months  or  years,  till  every  ves- 
tige of  color  seems  gone,  when  washed  with  the  soap-weed 
(mole  eactus)  the  bright  native  colors  come  out  as  beautiful  as 
ever.  They  also  manufacture,  with  beads  and  silk  threads  ob- 
tained from  the  traders,  very  beautiful  neck-ties,  ribbons, 
garters,  cuffs  and  other  ornaments.  More  interesting  to  me 
than  any  of  their  handicraft,  is  the  unwearying  patience  they 
display  in  all  their  work,  and  their  zeal  and  quickness  to  learn 
in  everything  which  may  improve  their  condition.  Surely  such 
a  people  are  capable  of  civilization. 

Officers  and  agents  universally  tell  me  that  Navajoes  work 
alongside  of  any  employes  they  can  get,  and  do  full  work.  They 
dig  ditches  and  make  embankments  with  great  skill,  handling 
the  spade  as  well  as  any  Irishman.  The  most  intelligent  of 
them  say  it  will  be  no  use  to  import  laborers  here  to  work  on 
the  railroad  ;  they  will  learn  how  and  do  the  work  themselves. 

Fort  Wingate  was  established  in  August,  1868,  by  the  troops 
who  came  there  that  year  with  the  Navajoes.  It  is  nearly  on 


520  ZOOLOGICAL. 

the  same  site  as  old  Fort  Fauntleroy,  afterward  called  Fort 
Lyou,  which  was  hastily  abandoned  in  1862,  when  the  Texans 
overran  New  Mexico.  When  this  was  built,  old  Fort  Wingate, 
sixty  miles  southeast,  was  abandoned. 

The  region  has  many  wild  animals.  The  antelope,  black- 
tailed  deer,  black  bear,  big  gray  wolf,  wild-cat,  gray  fox  and 
beavyer  are  found  by  hunting  in  the  mountains,  while  the  coyote 
is  altogether  too  common,  and  even  in  the  fort  my  sleep  was 
sometimes  disturbed  by  its  long-drawn  and  melancholy  howl. 
But  the  game  near  the  post  has  been  greatly  thinned  out  lately 
by  the  Navajoes,  and  the  officers  go  out  some  distance  to  hunt. 
There  must  be  myriads  of  some  kind  of  insects,  judging  from 
the  presence  of  insect-eating  birds,  such  as  the  woodpecker  (two 
varieties),  fly-catcher,  large  raven,  bluejay,  blackbird,  owl  and 
hawk  (several  kinds),  magpie,  and  Rocky  Mountain  bluebird. 
The  officers  tell  me  that  during  most  of  the  season  there  are 
vast  flocks  of  buzzards  hovering  constantly  about  the  fort,  but 
at  this  time  they  are  off  in  the  woods  or  cliffs  hatching. 

It  is  rather  curious  there  should  be  such  an  abundance  of 
animal  life  in  what  appears  to  be  such  a  barren  country,  and 
more  particularly  that  there  should  be  so  many  scavengers  (buz- 
zards, etc.)  in  a  dry  and  cool  locality.  It  may  be  partially  ex- 
plained by  the  fact  that  there  is  more  timber  about  there  than  in 
the  mountains  generally,  and  in  the  timber  probably  more  food 
for  small  birds,  etc.,  than  one  would  think  from  the  appearance 
of  the  plain. 

On  the  6th  of  June,  Mr.  Wm.  Burgess,  blacksmith  for  the 
Navajo  Agency,  at  Fort  Defiance,  Arizona,  reached  Wingate 
from  that  post;  and  I  concluded  that  was  my  best  chance  for 
company  on  another  stage  of  my  journey.  The  distance  between 
the  posts  is  just  forty-five  miles,  as  measured  by  Lieutenant 
BealFs  odometer,  in  1860;  and  Defiance  is  about  three  milea 
west  of  the  Territorial  line. 

This  distance  we  rode  easily  in  nine  hours,  stopping  an  hour 
at  noon.  There  is  water  at  but  one  point  on  the  road,  Stinking 
Springs,  sometimes  politely  called  Sheep  Springs.  Our  mules 
drank  of  it,  under  protest,  and  with  many  sniffs  and  contortion* 


ROAD  TO   DEFIANCE.  521 

of  the  lips;  and  I  tasted  it  from  curiosity.  It  appears  like  a 
solution  of  blue-dye,  and  tastes  like  white-oak  bark.  To  some 
it  is  a  dangerous  cathartic,  but  to  most  a  powerful  astringent. 
We  left  Wingate  with  full  canteens,  and  having  a  delightfully 
cool  day,  did  not  suffer  from  thirst.  Our  road  wound  about  to 
nearly  every  point  of  the  compass,  bearing  generally  northwest; 
and  here  and  there  we  encountered  the  Navajo  trail,  often 
crossing  our  road  at  right-angles  and  striking  directly  over  the 
hills,  thus  lessening  the  distance  at  least  a  third.  But  it  is 
safer  for  white  men  to  follow  the  main  road,  the  trail  being  in- 
distinguishable for  a  mile  or  two  in  places,  on  the  bare  sand 
rock  or  among  the  pinon  thickets.  Four  miles  from  Wingate 
the  valley  makes  a  great  U  to  the  northward,  and  our  road 
runs  over  the  foothills  for  three  miles;  then  enters  the  valley 
again,  which  there  narrows  to  a  mere  pass.  A  vast  dyke  of 
hard  trap-rock  extends  across  the  country  from  north  to  south, 
standing  out  above  the  sandstone  like  an  artificial  stone  battle- 
ment ;  runs  out  from  each  side  of  the  valley  in  abrupt  cause- 
ways, and  leaves  a  rugged  gap  only  a  hundred  yards  wide.  This 
opens  into  a  broad  and  fertile  valley,  across  which  three  miles 
bring  us  to  the  Rio  Puerco  of  the  West.  The  Puerco  I  crossed 
on  the  26th  of  May  runs  southeast  into  the  Rio  Grande ;  this 
one  southwest  into  the  Colorado  Chiquito.  We  cross  this  Puerco, 
rise  again  into  the  northern  foothills,  and  stop  for  noon  in 
a  pinon  thicket.  The  A.  and  P.  R.  R.  line  follows  on  down 
the  Puerco,  running  fifteen  miles  south  of  Defiance,  and  I  have 
traveled  directly  along  its  line  from  El  Rito. 

For  the  ninety  miles,  from  the  old  volcano  at  Agua  Azul  to 
Defiance,  the  "  country  rock  "  is  entirely  of  sandstone,  or  occa- 
sionally soapstone,  if  that  be  counted  an  exception. 

The  solitary  break  in  the  formation  is  the  large  dyke  of  trap- 
rock.  I  saw  not  a  particle  of  granite,  slate,  quartzite,  or  primary 
limestone — consequently,  no  indications  whatever  of  gold  or 
silver  leads.  The  general  testimony  of  soldiers  and  explorers 
here  is  that  the  formation  slowly  changes  toward  the  north,  even 
to  the  San  Juan  River.  There  it  is  granite,  and  there,  also,  are 
valuable  gold  and  silver  mines. 


522  DRYING    UP. 

At  the  Puerco  I  left  the  line  of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  Rail- 
road. I  might  have  followed  it  southeast  to  a  point  a  little 
beyond  the  Zuni  settlements,  which  is  regarded  as  the  northeast 
corner  of  the  Apache  country  ;  but  just  then  I  did  not  care  to 
go  farther  in  that  direction.  A  fifty  mile  strip  of  Zunis  and 
Navajoes  is  the  least  I  cared  to  have  between  me  and  those  in- 
teresting savages.  I  could  hear  enough  about  them  at  that 
distance. 

Twenty-five  miles  from  Wingate  we  descend  a  gentle  slope 
iftto  "  the  Lakes ; "  not  bodies  of  water,  as  the  name  might  im- 
ply, but  an  oval  valley  of  great  natural  fertility,  some  five  miles 
by  three  in  extent.  A  few  years  ago  it  was  overflowed  in  winter 
for  a  month  or  two;  but  in  the  general  drying  up  which  this 
country  has  suffered  of  late,  it  is  perfectly  dry  all  the  year.  I 
examined  the  soil  with  some  curiosity,  and  found  it  exactly  like 
that  of  our  Wabash  and  Ohio  "  bottoms/'  If  the  reader  will 
imagine  one  of  our  most  fertile  tracts  of  black,  rich,  loam,  plowed, 
then  well  rolled,  and  left  for  a  few  years  without  a  drop  of  rain 
or  dew,  he  will  have  an  exact  picture  of  one  of  these  rich  but 
un watered  valleys.  I  easily  kicked  up  the  black,  loose  soil, 
which  bore  not  a  spear  of  grass,  and  yet  had  every  element  of 
abundant  plant-life  but  the  one  thing,  moisture.  Three  showers 
would  cover  it  with  a  rich  carpet  of  green  ;  water  enough  for 
irrigation  would  make  it  a  blooming  garden.  Everywhere  in 
this  region  we  come  upon  dried  lakes,  dead  springs  and  wells, 
and  occasionally  cross  river  beds  which  evidently  once  had  a 
volume  equal  to  that  of  the  Miami.  Marine  and  fresh-water 
shells  are  found  by  the  wagon  load  in  dry  flumes,  and  near  them 
piles  of  Pueblo  pottery  and  broken  adobes,  where  the  only  in- 
dication of  moisture  at  present  is  found  in  a  few  sickly  cotton- 
woods,  annually  growing  less  numerous. 

Twelve  miles  more  of  gently  rolling  hills  and  piiion  groves 
bring  us  to  the  "  Haystacks."  These  are  a  series  of  cones  of 
yellow  sandstone,  something  over  a  hundred  feet  high,  and  fifty 
feet  wide  at  the  base,  running  up  to  a  sharp  point.  They  stand 
upon  an  almost  level  plain,  but  half  a  mile  away  is  a  rooky 
ledge  containing  a  vast  natural  bridge,  arched  gateway,  and  all 


"STARVE  OR  FIGHT."  523 

the  forms  o£  rocky  tower  and  battlement  which  can  be  imagined. 
Eight  miles  farther  brought  us  to  Defiance,  situated  at  the 
foot  of  a  low  rocky  range,  and  almost  in  the  mouth  of 
Canon  Benito. 

Approaching  the  post  across  a  sandy  plain  we  first  come  to  a 
dry  river  bed,  with  enough  of  stunted  grass  to  show  that  water 
still  runs  there  sometimes.  Following  up  the  stream  we  find 
first  a  pool  of  water,  then  a  flock  of  sheep,  then  Indian  farms, 
and  occasionally  a  hogan,  from  which  the  Navajo  squaws  and 
children  peep  out  at  us  with  a  sort  of  hungry  curiosity.  We 
cross  a  common  field  of  a  hundred  acres  or  so,  which  the  Nava- 
joes  have  thrown  up  into  beds  of  two  or  three  rods  square  for 
irrigation,  and  ride  into  the  fort. 

O  / 

The  white  population  sally  out  nearly  en  masse  with  one  cry, 
"  Where's  the  mail  ?  Why  the  h — 1  didn't  you  bring  the 
mail ! " 

My  companion  explained  that  high  water  on  the  Rio  Grande, 
or  some  other  cause,  had  prevented  any  military  express  reach- 
ing Wingate  from  Sante  Fe,  and  consequently  there  was  no 
mail.  The  general  disgust  was  painful  to  witness. 

"  Here's  a  gentleman,"  said  my  companion,  "just  from  there; 
may  be  he  can  tell  you  about  Congress." 

Then  all  centered  on  the  question  : 

"  How  about  the  Indian  Appropriation  Bill  ?  Will  they  do 
anything  about  provision  for  these  Navajoes?  " 

I  replied  that  to  the  best  of  my  knowledge  and  belief,  Congress 
had  made  no  special  provision  for  the  Navajo  Agency,  and 
pending  the  present  issue  in  National  aifairs,  probably  would 
not.  Then  every  man  in  the  outpost  looked  as  if  all  his  rela- 
tions had  just  died  insolvent.  General  assent  was  given  to  the 
remarks  of  one  employe  : 

"  There'll  be  another  Navajo  war,  and  we'll  all  have  to  clear. 
These  are  the  best  Indians  on  the  continent,  willing  to  work, 
and  don't  want  to  fight.  But,  d — n  it,  they  can't  starve  to 
death  right  here.  We've  destroyed  their  living ;  run  off  all  the 
game  and  shut  'em  up  here,  and  their  crops  failed  two  years. 
If  we  were  in  their  place,  we'd  fight.  They  must  steal,  01 


524  AGENCY    MATTERS. 

starve,  or  fight,  one  o'  the  three.  Ain't  a  man  here  in  Govern- 
ment employ  that's  been  paid  a  cent  for  twelve  months.  They'll 
give  the  Apaches  sugar  and  coffee  and  flour,  because  they're  a 
murderin'  and  robbin',  and  won't  give  these  men  anything  be- 
cause they've  been  peaceable  for  eight  years,  and  these  fellows 
know  it,  too.  Well,  they'll  be  another  Navajo  war, — that's  what 
they'll  be." 

Defiance  is  only  nominally  a  fort.  There  is  no  military  post, 
no  soldiers,  and  only  twenty  whites  all  told — four  American 
ladies,  one  Mexican  and  fifteen  Americans,  all  employ es  of  the 
agency.  Mr.  James  H.  Miller,  Agent  of  the  Navajoes,  was 
absent  on  an  expedition  to  the  San  Juan  country,  and  his  place 
supplied  by  Mr.  Thomas  V.  Keams,  the  clerk.  The  other 
officials  and  employes  were :  J.  Miller,  carpenter ;  W.  Burgess, 
blacksmith;  J.  Dunn,  wagon  master ;  Perry  H.  Williams  and 
Ezra  Hoag,  "  on  issue  of  rations ; "  A.  C.  Damon,  butcher,  and 
Andrew  Crothers,  in  charge  of  grain  room.  The  religious  and 
medical  staff  constitute  an  entirely  separate  department.  The 
physician,  Dr.  J.  Menaul,  was  also  a  minister,  and  held  service 
every  Sunday ;  and  his  lady,  Mrs.  Menaul,  was  the  teacher  em- 
ployed for  the  Navajoes.  John  H.  Van  Order  acted  as  interpreter 
from  English  into  Spanish,  and  Jesus  Alviso  from  Spanish  into 
Navajo,  both  employed  by  the  Government  and  both  necessary 
to  a  perfect  intercourse.  Nearly  all  the  employes  understood  a 
little  Navajo,  but  not  enough  to  interpret. 

As  I  had  to  travel  with  them  for  some  weeks,  I  set  in  most 
industriously  to  learn  the  language,  and  at  the  end  of  half  a 
day's  hard  work  had  mastered  two  words,  viz. :  "Ah  tee  chee  " 
("  What  is  that  ?  "),  and  "  loot  chsin  "  ("  money").  It  is  the  most 
difficult  of  all  American  tongues,  and  the  more  complex  portions 
of  it  have  never  been  learned  by  white  men.  I  give  in  the  two 
words  above  the  nearest  possible  sound  in  English  letters,  but 
no  alphabet  of  civilized  men  can  represent  the  Navajo  language. 
It  combines  the  worst  features  of  the  French,  German  and 
Chinese;  it  is  extremely  nasal,  extremely  guttural,  and  abounds 
in  sibilants  and  triple  consonants.  A  word  of  three  syllable! 
begins  very  high  in  the  nose,  and  ends  very  deep  in  the  throat, 


NAVAJO   LANGUAGE. 


525 


NAVAJO  BOY. 


with  a  sharp  hiss  on  the  middle  syllable.  In  the  three  letters, 
c  h  Sj  I  have  designated  a  sound  which  no  American  can  pro- 
duce exactly,  but  near  enough  for  a  Navajo  to  recognize  it. 
Accepting  the  theory  of  the  French  Academy  as  to  the  "origin 
of  language,"  I  should  say  this  language  was  nearly  in  its 
original  form,  certainly  not  more  than  one  or  two  thousand 
years  old ;  and  that  it  originated  directly  from  imitations  of  the 
animals,  particularly  the  owl,  the  snake,  and  the  coyote. 

Mr.  B.  M.  Thomas,  post  farmer,  constitutes  a  department  by 
himself,  appointed  by  the  Indian  Bureau ;  and  the  Navajoes  are 
laboring  zealously  under  his  instructions.  In  the  ecclesiastical 
division  of  the  Indian  tribes,  this  region  fell  to  the  Presby- 
terians, and  their  Board  recommends  these  officers.  Mr.  Lionel 
Ayers  fills  the  position  of  Post  Trader,  appointed  neither  by 
Church  nor  State,  but  vouched  for  by  the  agent,  and  licensed 


526  STARTLING    NEWS. 

by  the  Secretary  of  War.  The  agent  and  farmer  had  their 
wives  here,  the  physician  his  wife  and  sister,  bringing  up  the 
population  of  this  strange  isolated  community  to  a  total  of 
twenty  whites — sixteen  men  and  four  ladies :  all  interesting  as 
occupants  of  the  last  outpost,  on  my  route,  of  civilization. 
From  here  my  companions  for  a  dreary  four  hundred  miles 
were  to  be  Moquis  and  Navajoes. 

As  it  was  but  seventy  miles  to  the  De  Chaco  ruins,  I  was 
making  ready  to  visit  them  with  Navajo  guides,  when  the  news 
of  an  unlocked  for  tragedy  reached  us,  and  threw  the  little 
community  into  a  state  of  consternation. 

We  were  seated  at  breakfast  the  morning  of  the  13th,  when 
one  of  the  party  which  had  gone  to  San  Juan  arrived,  com- 
pletely exhausted,  and  announced  that  Agent  Miller  had  been 
murdered,  and  all  their  horses  stolen  but  one;  that  he  had 
started  immediately  with  that,  and  the  rest  of  the  party  were 
coming  afoot.  Next  day  the  others  arrived,  quite  worn  out, 
having  walked  a  hundred  miles  in  three  days,  carrying  their 
baggage.  Their  account  is  as  follows :  The  party,  consisting 
of  Agent  Miller,  B.  M.  Thomas,  (Agency  Farmer,)  John  Ayers 
and  the  Interpreter,  Jesus  Alviso,  left  Defiance  on  the  4th  of 
June,  to  inspect  the  San  Juan  Valley,  with  a  view  of  locating 
the  Navajo  Agency  there.  The  examination  was  most  satisfac- 
tory, as  they  found  one  fertile  and  beautiful  valley  near  the 
river,  capable  of  being  irrigated  by  a  single  acecquia,  and  suffi- 
cient to  support  the  whole  tribe.  At  the  same  time,  three 
others  left  the  settlements  on  a  prospecting  tour,  reached  San 
Juan  one  day  after  the  Agent's  party,  and  were  camped  twelve 
miles  from  them  on  the  bluff.  Neither  party  dreamed  of 
danger  from  the  Utes,  as  that  tribe  had  been  at  peace  many 
years ;  and,  though  they  annoyed  the  Navajoes  greatly,  had  not 
molested  white  men.  On  the  morning  of  the  llth,  just  at 
dawn,  Miller's  companions  were  awakened  by  the  report  of  a 
gun  and  whistling  of  an  arrow,  both  evidently  fired  within 
half  a  dozen  rods  of  them.  They  sprang  to  their  feet,  and  saw 
two  Utes  run  into  the  brush ;  ten  minutes  after  they  saw  them 
emerge  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  thicket,  and  ride  up  the 


MURDER   OF   AGENT   MILLER.  527 

bluff,  driving  the  company's  horses  before  them.  They  did  not 
know,  at  first  sight,  that  the  Utes  were  hostile,  or  that  they 
had  fired  at  them.  John  Ayers  spoke  to  Miller,  who  did  not 
reply ;  he  then  shoved  him  with  his  foot,  still  he  did  not  wake. 
They  pulled  off  his  blanket,  and  found  him  dead.  The  Ute's 
bullet  had  entered  the  top  of  his  head  and  passed  down  behind 
his  right  eye,  without  disarranging  his  clothing  in  the. slightest. 
His  feet  were  crossed,  and  hands  folded  exactly  as  when  he 
went  to  sleep;  his  eyes  were  closed,  and  lips  slightly  parted 
into  a  faint  smile,  as  if  from  a  pleasant  dream — all  showed 
beyond  doubt  that  he  had  passed  from  sleep  to  death  without  a 
struggle  or  a  sigh. 

Thus  died  James  H.  Miller,  a  true  Christian,  faithful  official, 
and  a  brave  man.  He  was  a  native  of  Huntington  County, 
Pennsylvania,  enlisted  in  the  Fifty-fifth  Pennsylvania  Volun- 
teers, and  served  three  years  and  four  months,  most  of  the  time 
as  Lieutenant  in  Company  H.  He  was  appointed  Agent  of 
the  Navajoes,  in  December,  1870,  entered  on  his  duties  soon 
after,  and  in  the  midst  of  discouragement.  The  annuity  for 
the  previous  year  was  exhausted ;  the  crops  had  partially  failed, 
and  in  1871  the  failure  was  total.  On  the  verge  of  starvation, 
the  Navajoes  were  still  kept  in  tolerable  order  by  his  exertions, 
until  the  next  annuity  arrived ;  and  he  was  carrying  out  more 
extended  plans  for  their  benefit  at  the  time  of  his  death.  He 
was  a  devout  Presbyterian,  and  an  earnest  supporter  of  what  is 
technically  called  "the  humanitarian  Indian  policy."  The 
race  lost  an  active  friend  by  his  death.  The  grief  of  the  Nava- 
joes  was  profound  and  unaffected.  His  companions  and  the 
mining  party  buried  him  near  where  he  was  killed.  His  wife 
and  infant  son  were  at  Defiance,  but  started  to  the  States  in  a 
few  days  with  the  military  express. 

A  general  Ute  war  was  apprehended,  and  all  thoughts  of  an 
expedition  in  that  direction  were  abandoned.  I  wandered 
about  the  Navajo  country,  gathering  curious  stones,  and  study- 
ing the  "lay  of  the  country;"  but  mostly  amused  myself  by 
taking  notes  of  the  Indians.  Their  condition  was  worse  than 
ever  before.  The  last  grain  in  the  Agency  storehouse  was 


528  HARD   TIMES. 

issued  to  them  on  the  14th,  and  most  of  them  looked  lean  and 
hungry  enough.  They  began  on  their  horses  and  sheep,  having 
decided  to  eat  their  old  horses  and  wethers  first,  saving  the 
ewes  and  goats  to  the  last ;  for  these  are  more  hardy,  and 
besides,  their  milk  is  an  important  item.  As  long  as  there  was 
grain,  we  purchased  goat's  milk  of  them,  paying  in  grain ;  and 
I  found  it  very  palatable  and  nutritious.  But  I  did  not  relish 
the  flesh,  finding  it  rather  rank  and  stringy.  I  did  not  taste 
horse-flesh,  though  in  my  visits  to  some  of  the  more  distant 
hoganSy  I  found  them  gnawing  away  at  what  looked  suspi- 
ciously like  equine  shanks.  The  white  men  who  have  eaten  it 
say  it  is  very  nourishing,  but  I  am  too  old  now  to  overcome 
my  early  prejudices.  The  Agency  employes  had  not  been 
paid  for  a  year,  and  as  they  have  to  buy  their  own  provisions, 
things  looked  blue  for  them.  When  I  first  arrived,  they  were 
faring  sumptuously  on  coffee,  bacon,  bread,  potatoes,  and  goat's 
milk;  but  one  by  one,  our  luxuries  vanished,  and  for  the  last 
three  days  we  lived  on  Navajo  bread,  coffee,  and  "commissary 
butter,"  straight. 

In  all  their  troubles  the  Navajoes  are  lively,  cheerful  and 
looking  for  better  times.  To  see  ten  thousand  people  able  and 
willing  to  do  almost  any  kind  of  work,  with  natural  talents  of 
no  mean  order,  and  most  anxious  to  improve,  to  see  such  a 
people  shut  up  on  this  barren  plateau,  and  kept  out  of  that  part 
of  their  country  in  which  they  could  live,  literally  perishing 
without  a  chance  to  help  themselves,  was  enough  to  sadden 
even  a  hard  heart.  What  would  a  community  of  ten  thousand 
whites  do  in  such  a  case  ?  Who,  if  anybody,  is  to  blame,  I  do 
not  know.  The  melancholy  facts  I  sa\v. 

But  Congress  did  not  adjourn  without  passing  the  Indian 
Appropriation  Bill,  and  soon  the  Superintendent  at  Santa  Fe 
sent  them  grain  enough  to  last  till  a  new  crop  came  in.  There 
was  rejoicing  in  the  hogans  in  consequence.  The  Xavajoes  are 
the  original  Romans  of  New  Mexico  and  Arizona.  For  two 
hundred  years  they  carried  on  almost  continual  war  with  the 
Spaniards,  disdaining  all  offers  of  peace  or  alliance,  and  proving 
upon  the  valley  of  the  Rio  Grande.  At  length  each  separate 


THE    NAVAJO    WAR.  529 

Mexican  settlement  adopted  the  plan  of  buying  off  its  nearest 
Navajo  neighbors,  paying  tribute  to  one  band  to  guard  them 
against  the  rest.  This  succeeded  admirably  until  the  American 
occupation ;  then  the  "  Greasers/7  emboldened  by  the  idea  that 
our  army  would  protect  them,  refused  the  tribute;  and  the 
Navajoes  descended  in  three  bands,  and  swept  several  settle- 
ments clean  of  their  stock.  They  committed  their  worst 
depredations  all  around,  and  within  twenty  miles  of,  the  last 
division  of  Kearney  and  Doniphan's  forces. 

A  flaming  proclamation  of  war  was  issued,  and  of  the  results 
the  report  of  J.  Madison  Cutts,  with  the  army,  speaks  thus 
cautiously : 

"The  campaign  against  the  Navajoes  was  accomplished  in 
the  dead  of  winter,  without  supplies  or  tents.  He  succeeded  in 
forming  a  treaty  with  these  troublesome  Indians,  represented 
as  more  warlike  than  the  Mexicans,  to  whom  they  were  a  great 
source  of  dread  and  injury,  on  the  22d  of  November,  1846." 
The  fact  was,  our  army  could  not  then  afford  to  go  to  war  with 
a  brave  and  desperate  race  in  such  a  country  as  the  Navajoes 
occupied. 

Occasional  difficulties  took  place  until  Fort  Defiance  was 
established,  in  1850.  Then  there  was  peace  for  seven  years. 
In  1857  a  negro  slave  of  Major  Brooks,  an  officer  stationed 
there,  had  a  difficulty  with  a  Navajo  sub-chief.  The  friendly 
and  compliant  manners  of  the  Indians  had  led  the  soldiers  to 
consider  them  cowardly  as  well  as  peaceable.  The  negro 
passed  the  chief  on  the  parade  ground  one  day,  and  turning 
behind  him,  gave  him  a  violent  kick.  The  Navajo  whirled 
about  and  let  fly  an  arrow,  which  passed  entirely  through  the 
negro,  who  fell  dead.  The  Indian  fled  to  the  mountains ;  the 
tribe  refused  to  surrender  him,  and  another  war  began,  and 
lasted,  with  but  slight  intermission,  until  1864.  The  National 
officers  found  it  impossible  to  conquer  the  Navajoes  except  by 
destroying  their  stock.  It  is  reported  that  over  fifty  thousand 
sheep  were  bayoneted.  One  little  valley,  a  few  miles  from 
Defiance,  is  almost  literally  paved  with  the  skeletons  of  sheep 
destroyed  there  to  prevent  the  Navajoes  from  using  them. 
34 


530  ABANDONED    FIELDS. 

The  Utes  also  drove  away  many  thousands,  and  this  tribe  was 
completely  beggared.  But  before  they  were  entirely  subju- 
gated, the  Texan  invasion  of  1861-2  took  place,  compelling  the 
abandonment  of  this  post  and  Wiugate,  and  the  Navajoes  had 
things  their  own  way  again. 

In  1863  General  W.  H.  Carleton  led  an  army  thither,  com- 
pletely destroyed  their  means  of  subsistence,  and  induced  the 
whole  tribe  to  surrender.  They  had  not  a  sheep  left,  and  very 
few  horses.  Numbering  ten  thousand,  they  were  taken  in  a 
body  to  the  Fort  Sumner  reservation,  where  small-pox  and  en- 
demic fever  preyed  upon  them,  and  one-eighth  of  the  entire 
tribe  perished.  The  venereal  poison  also  was  there  introduced 
among  them,  which  has  destroyed  many.  In  1868  their  great 
Chief,  Barboncito,  made  such  representations  to  General  Sherman 
as  induced  him  to  consent  to  their  return  here.  They  went 
zealously  to  work,  and  in  1870  raised  about  half  a  crop.  The 
seeds  furnished  by  the  department  were  unsuited  to  this  high 
altitude,  and  most  of  their  plants  were  cut  off  by  the  September 
frosts.  In  1871,  they  planted  extensively,  worked  hard,  and 
had  every  prospect  of  an  abundant  crop,  when,  on  the  night  of 
May  30,  came  a  storm  unprecedented  in  this  region  ;  the  ground 
was  covered  an  inch  thick  with  sleet,  and  every  plant  and  young 
fruit  tree  frozen  solid  to  the  ground.  The  annuity  goods  and 
provisions  of  that  year  were  soon  exhausted,  and  theft  or  starva- 
tion was  the  only  alternative.  But  the  sheep  given  by  the 
Government  had  increased  'rapidly,  and  are  now  numbered  at 
thirty  thousand  in  the  tribe.  Their  horses  are  returned  at 
twenty  thousand.  The  difficulties  in  the  way  of  improving 
their  condition  are  many :  they  are  a  pastoral  rather  than  an 
agricultural  people ;  their  most  fertile  and  extensive  valley,  on 
the  San  Juan,  they  can  not  now  farm  on  account  of  the  Utes, 
and  many  other  valleys  formerly  productive  are  now  barren  on 
account  of  the  four  years'  drought.  Near  where  I  crossed  the 
Puerco  is  a  beautiful  valley  from  which,  as  Mr.  Dunn  informs 
me,  when  he  was  a  soldier  here,  they  hauled  fifty  wagon-loads 
of  corn,  and  destroyed  on  the  ground  a  hundred  more.  Now, 
no  cultivation  could  raise  a  grain  there.  The  Puerco  at  that 


THE   NAVAJO    DEVIL,. 


531 


point,  in  the  dry  season  of  1858,  had  a  current  a  rod  wide  and 
two  feet  deep ;  now  it  looks  as  if  water  had  never  run  there 
since  the  creation.  The  "  big  field,"  two  miles  south  of  Defiance, 
which  produced  seventy  bushels  of  corn  per  acre  five  years  ago, 
can  not  now  be  cultivated  at  all.  A  small  river  ran  there, 
which  is  now  totally  dry.  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  this 
country  has  wet  and  dry  cycles,  of  ten  years  or  more  each. 
Neither  snow  nor  rain  enough  has  fallen  within  the  last  two 
years  to  make  up  the  moisture  of  one  of  the  wet  months  in 
former  times. 

Mrs.  Charity  Menaul,  the  teacher,  reports  considerable  pro- 
gress among  the  Navajocs  under  her  charge.  In  my  visits 
there  and  talks  at  the 
hoffans,  I  learned  many 
interesting  particulars  of 
N  a  v  a j  o  th  eology ,  etc. 
Like  most  savage  races, 
their  religion  is  princi- 
pally superstition.  Chin- 
day,  the  devil,  is  a  more 
important  personage  in 
all  their  daily  affairs 
than  Whaillahay,  the 
god.  Like  the  Mor- 
mons, Shakers,  and  other 
white  schismatics,  they 
attribute  everything  they 
don't  like  in  other  people 
to  the  personal  agency 
of  the  devil ;  and  about 
the  only  use  of  their  god 
is  to  protect  them  from 

the  devil.  They  have  a  tradition  of  a  flood,  but  think  that  was 
caused  by  the  devil  damming  the  rivers.  Their  moral  code  is 
extremely  vague :  whatever  is  good  for  the  tribe  or  band  is  in 
general  right ;  whatever  is  not  pro  bonopublico  is  wrong.  Cow- 
ards, after  death,  will  become  coyotes;  while  braves  will  con- 


NAVAJO  MATRON. 


532  GRITTY   BREAD. 

tinue  men  in  a  better  country.  Women  will  change  to  fish  for 
awhile,  and  afterwards  to  something  else.  But  they  don't 
trouble  themselves  much  about  the  next  world.  If  they  had 
plenty  in  this,  they  would  consider  themselves  in  luck. 

The  luxuries  of  life  are  not  obtainable  at  Defiance,  some 
things  we  should  call  necessaries  are  rather  scarce.  Navajo 
flour  is  the  only  kind  used.  The  first  meal  I  was  delighted  to 
see  our  Indian  servant  bring  in  what  I  recognized  as  an  old 
Yankee  acquaintance — "Graham  biscuits;"  though  they  looked 
rather  more  coarse  and  lumpy  than  the  Eastern  kind.  The  first 
mouthful  I  thought  was  half  dirt;  it  "  gritted"  so  on  my  teeth 
that  I  could  not  restrain  an  expression  of  disgust.  At  this  my 
host,  Mr.  Keams,  acting  agent,  apologized  by  saying  that  the 
"  Navajoe  grindstones  were  soft,  and  left  rather  more  grit  in  the 
flour  than  he  liked."  A  few  meals  soon  reconciled  me  to  this 
grit,  and  I  arn  convinced  that  Navajo  flour  makes  the  most 
wholesome  bread  in  the  world.  The  grinding  is  done  by  women,, 
who  become  quite  skilful.  The  lower  stone  is  some  eighteen 
inches  long,  sloping  a  little  from  the  worker.  The  upper  stone 
is  about  six  inches  square.  The  woman  lays  a  clean  sheep-skin 
on  the  ground,  sits  on  one  side  of  it  with  the  wheat  by  her,  and 
the  stones  in  front;  then  rakes  the  wheat  up  by  a  regular  motion 
of  the  left  hand  running  the  small  stone  over  the  other  with  the 
right.  The  wheat  rolling  down  as  she  grinds,  is  reduced  to  a 
fine  pasty  flour.  For  corn  two  or  three  women  usually  grind 
together,  each  one  passing  it  to  the  next,  who  reduces  it  to  a 
finer  consistency.  In  their  bright-colored  garments,  with  long 
black  hair  swaying  as  they  move  their  bodies  back  and  forward, 
a  group  of  them  looks  very  picturesque,  if  not  neat;  while  at 
work  they  sing  a  monotonous  song,  which  sounds  very  much 
like  our  rural  "  Barbara  Allen,"  in  very  slow  time.  For  their 
own  use  they  make  of  this  pasty  flour  a  very  thin  mixture,  no 
thicker  than  starch,  which  they  cook  on  hot  stones.  The  fire  is 
built  in  a  small  hole,  on  which  is  placed  the  flat  stone,  no  more 
than  an  inch  thick  ;  when  sufficiently  hot,  the  squaw  thrusts  her 
hand  into  the  starchy  solution,  and  rapidly  draws  a  handful, 
which  she  spreads  upon  the  stpue.  In  a  half-minute  it  is  cooked 


LANGUAGE   AND   CUSTOMS. 


533 


NAVAJOE   "GRISTMILL. 


in  the  form  of  a  thin  brown  wafer,  no  thicker  than  card  board. 
Another  follows,  and  another,  until  the  cooked  wafers  form  a 
layer  some  six  inches  thick.  They  then  roll  them  up  in  shape  con- 
venient to  carry.  Half  a  gallon  of  the  thin  paste  of  flour  will 
make  a  roll  the  size  of  a  half-bushel.  That  I  have  eaten  has  a 
rather  insipid  taste,  from  the  want  of  salt  or  other  seasoning; 
but  it  is  very  nutritious  and  strengthening.  The  bread  they 
made  of  corn  I  find  very  palatable.  Two  bushels  of  wheat  is  a 
day's  grinding  for  one  squaw.  They  complain  that  the  stone 
hereabout  is  very  poor  for  grinding,  wearing  out  in  a  few  days, 
and  leaving  too  much  grit  in  the  flour.  Our  bread  was  regu- 
larly prepared  in  a  stove,  and  our  Indian  cook  displayed  some 
skill;  besides,  when  accustomed  to  it,  I  found  it  very  pala- 
table, and  while  using  it  my  digestion  was  simply  perfect.  I 
spent  many  hours  every  day  in  the  hogans  of  the  Navajoes, 
trying,  when  they  were  in  a  teaching  humor,  to  catch  the  peculiar 
click  of  their  language.  I  soon  acquired  some  fifty  words,  and 
began  to  see  something  like  system  in  the  language. 

Their  social  customs  and  adornments  have  a  singular  resem- 
blance to  those  of  the  Japanese.  They  treat  their  women  as 
well  as  most  white  nations.  Men  do  the  out-door  work,  women 
that  of  the  household.  The  latter  are  very  communicative, 
humorous  and  mirthful,  and  nothing  seemed  to  amuse  them  so 
much  as  my  attempts  at  their  language,  at*  which  they  would 
listen  and  laugh  by  the  hour.  They  say  that  a  woman  first 


534 


STRANGE   PRACTICE. 


taught  them  how  to  weave  blankets  and  make  water-jars,  for 
which  cause  it  is  a  point  of  honor  with  a  Navajo  never  to  strike 
a  woman.  Their  women  are  not  overworked  or  abused,  and  are 
consequently  more  shapely  and  graceful  than  those  of  other 
tribes.  It  is  a  singular  sight  to  witness  an  Indian  carrying  a 
baby,  while  the  squaw  walks  unweighted,  but  one  may  see  it 
every  day  about  Defiance.  They  formerly  captured  many 
Mexican  women,  whom  they  adopted  and  married,  which  may 
have  produced  some  change  in  the  general  characteristics  of  the 
tribe.  They  are  the  only  wild  tribe  I  know  who  do  not  scalp 

dead  enemies.  They  never 
had  that  practice.  In  fact, 
they  never  touch  a  dead  body, 
even  of  their  own  people. 
Each  hogan  is  so  construct- 
ed that  the  weight  rests 
mostly  on  two  main  beams. 
When  one  dies  in  a  hogan, 
they  loosen  these  two  outside, 
and  let  it  drop  upon  him. 
If  one  dies  on  the  plain,  they 
pile  enough  stones  upon  him 
to  keep  off  the  coyotes,  but 
never  touch  the  body.  This 
observance  is  a  serious  draw- 
back in  one  respect:  it  pre- 
vents them  from  building 
permanent  dwellings.  It  is 
said  to  be  a  part  of  their 
religion,  but  from  the  confused  accounts  I  have  of  it,  I  draw 
the  conclusion  that  it  originated  in  some  great  plague,  where 
contagion  resulted  from  touching  the  corpse.  They  are  very 
inquisitive;  a  watch  or  pocket-compass  will  interest  them  for 
hours.  If  I  were  in  the  mission  business,  I  would  rather  be  a 
missionary  among  the  Navajoes  than  any  savage  people  1  know 
of,  for  here  is  some  native  mental  activity  to  work  upon.  But  their 
language  would  present  a  great  barrier  to  Christianizing  them. 


NAVAJO   BELLE. 


"EL-SOO-SEE  EN-NO W-LO-KYH."  535 

They  unconsciously  perpetrated  a  small  joke  on  the  writer. 
There  are  so  few  white  men  there  that  they  know  every  stranger, 
and  generally  give  him  a  name.  In  my  wanderings  among 
them,  I  frequently  heard  them  speak  of  En-now-lo-kyh,  some- 
times joined  with  the  word  el-soo-see,  and  as  I  stooped  to  enter 
a  hogan,  could  sometimes  hear  the  head  of  the  family  call  to 
order  with  "  Hah-koh  !  El-soo-see  En-now-lo-kyh  !  "  Learning 
that  this  was  my  Navajo  name,  I  sought  the  interpreter,  highly 
flattered  at  my  noble  title,  to  learn  its  meaning.  A  broad  grin 
adorned  his  features  as  he  informed  me  that  the  two  words, 
translated  literally,  meant  "  Slim-man-with-a-white-eye."  Feel- 
ing this  to  be  somewhat  personal,  and  iuferentially  abusive,  I 
had  him  explain  somewhat  of  rny  business  to  them  and  construct 
a  name  indicative  of  my  profession;  and  henceforth  I  hope  to 
become  historical  among  the  Navajoes  by  an  unpronounceable 
word  of  six  syllables,  meaning  in  English  "Big  Quill." 

When  a  communication  is  twice  translated,  it  triples  the  am- 
biguity ;  and  that  is  the  method  employed  with  them ;  one 
interpreter  speaks  English  and  Spanish,  the  other  Spanish  and 
Navajo.  I  made  my  remarks  in  the  plainest,  most  terse  English 
I  could  command,  which  the  American  translated  into  the  florid 
Castilian ;  this,  in  turn,  the  Spaniard  rendered  in  the  hissing, 
complicated  phrases  and  cumbrous  polysyllables  of  tire  aborigi- 
nal tongue. 

But  while  pleasantly  employed  in  labors  philological,  ethno- 
logical and  antiquarian,  the  second  week  of  my  visit  came  an 
officer  from  Wingate,  bringing  letters  from  Santa  Fe  and  news 
of  such  a  storm  of  wrath  at  the  writer,  that  it  would  seem  the 
roar  might  have  been  heard  over  the  Sierra  Madre.  Santa  Fe 
was  in  a  white  heat  of  indignation,  and  my  name  was  coupled 
every  hour  of  the  day  with  the  most  opprobrious  epithets  two 
languages  could  furnish.  My  letters  from  that  virtuous  city  to 
the  Cincinnati  Commercial  had  come  to  hand  in  due  time;  an 
indignation  meeting  of  Jews  and  Mexicans  decided  that  the 
public  mind  must  be  informed  how  badly  I  had  slandered 
Santa  Fe,  and  one  of  the  former  was  deputed  to  squelch  me. 
He  prepared  a  three-column  broadside,  which  was  sent  to  the 


536  SANTA    FE    AGAIN. 

Commercial  and  various  Western  papers,  setting  forth  the 
u  damning  facts"  that  my  associations  in  Santa  Fe  were  not  of 
the  best,  etc.,  etc. 

Now,  I  have  just  this  much  of  an  apology  to  make  to  Santa 
Fe:  I  saw,  in  two  days  there,  that  it  was  a  queer  place;  and, 
when  I  began  to  take  the  evidence  of  old  residents,  I  saw  that 
if  I  published  the  half  that  was  told  me  I  should  stir  up  a  beauti- 
ful row.  Therefore  I  carefully  took  down  each  man's  name  and 
his  evidence,  with  a  note  of  his  facilities  for  getting  information  ; 
and  then,  duly  mindful  of  the  religious  character  of  the  Com- 
mercial, I  expunged  all  the  really  vile  and  loathsome  portions 
of  the  testimony,  and  only  sent  the  mildest  statements.  I  find 
on  my  note-book  the  names  of  seventeen  citizens  who  gave  me 
their  testimony.  They  begin  with  Honorables  and  Reverends,  and 
run  down  to  hotel-waiters  and  black  boys.  If  the  citizens  of  the 
14  City  of  Holy  Faith  "  are  distressed  about  the  photograph  I  took 
of  them,  I  can  furnish  them  some  pretty  respectable  authorities. 

I  have  since  suspected  that  some  of  the  young  fellows  were 
trying  how  big  a  lie  they  could  tell ;  and  as  they  were  the  ones 
most  enraged,  if  their  reputations  -have  suffered,  they  have  no 
one  but  themselves  to  blarne. 

Moral :  Don't  vote  the  next  stranger  a  fool  because  he  hap- 
pens to  have  a  halt  in  one  foot  or  a  cast  in  one  eye;  but  wait 
and  see  if  he  is  "a  chiel  a  takin'  notes,"  before  you  try  how 
big  a  lie  you  can  tell  about  your  own  town. 

But  if  they  feel  sore  over  my  light  touches,  what  do  they 
think  of  the  following,  written  by  a  brave  soldier  who  had  spent 
three  years  of  service  in  the  two  Territories  ?  With  a  little 
toning  down  it  strikes  me  as  a  pretty  correct  picture.  I  expur- 
gate the  worst  passages : 

ARIZONA  AND  NEW  MEXICO. 


Having  seen  many  illuminated  oil  paintings  and  water-color  sketches  of  this 
1  Terrestrial  Paradise,"  I  beg  leave  to  present  my  photograph  for  inspection. 

PRINTED  FOR  THE  BENEFIT  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


Fierce  Mars  I  bid  a  glad  farewell, 
And  turn  my  back  upon  Bellona, 

To  photograph  in  doggerel 
New  Mexico  and  Arizona. 


POETICAL   TOPOGRAPHY. 


537 


ARIZONA  LANDSCAPE. 


The  stinging  grass  and  thorny  plants 
And  all  its  prickly  tropic  glories, 

The  thieving,  starved  inhabitants, 
Who  look  so  picturesque  in  stories. 

The  dusty,  long,  hot,  dreary  way, 

Where  'neath  a  blazing  sun  you  totter, 

To  reach  a  camp  at  close  of  day 
And  find  it  destitute  of  water. 

The  dying  mule,  the  dried-up  spring, 
Which  novel  writers  seldom  notice ; 

The  song  the  blood  mosquitoes  sing, 
And  midnight  howling  of  coyotes. 

Tarantulas  and  centipedes, 

Horn'd  toads  and  piercing  mezquit  daggers, 
With  thorny  bushes,  grass  and  weeds 

To  bleed  the  traveler  as  he  staggers. 

Why  paint  things  in  a  rosy  light, 
And  never  tell  the  simple  fact  thus — 

How  one  sits  down  to  rest  at  night, 
And  ofter  squats  upon  a  cactus  ? 

As  desert,  mountain — rock  and  sand — 
Comprise  the  topographic  features, 

There's  little  left  at  my  command 
Except  to  paint  the  living  creatures. 

In  point  of  energy  and  sense, 
The  wild  Apaches  are  the  head  men, 

And  so,  in  fairness,  I  commence 
To  tell  you  something  of  the  red  men. 


538  A   CABALLERO. 

Each  mountain  chain  contains  a  hive 
Of  these  marauding  sons  of  thunder, 

Who  somehow  manage  and  contrive 
To  live  upon  mescal  and  plunder. 

Too  long  my  pen  has  dwelt  upon 
These  foes  to  railroads,  soap  and  labor, 

A  few  short  years,  and  they  are  gone 
Beyond  the  reach  of  prayer  or  saber. 

Now  turn  we  to  another  race 

Inhabiting  this  sunny  region, 
In  calm  and  fearless  truth  to  trace 

Their  manners,  habits  and  religion. 

There  is  no  fairer  law  than  that 
Which  gives  to  Csesar  what  is  Caesar's, 

Yet  this  is  not  a  land  of  fat 
Because  the  people  are  called  Greasers. 

These  natives,  in  a  Yankee's  eyes, 

Have  neither  virtue,  brains  nor  vigor — 

A  most  unhappy  compromise 

Between  the  Ingin  and  the  nigger. 

Their  language  is  a  mongrel  whine, 

From  which  the  meaning  seems  to  vanish, 

Like  strength  from  lager  beer  or  wine— 
A  parody  upon  the  Spanish. 

On  what  they  live— besides  the  air— 

You  may  perhaps  be  interested ; 
They  have  as  queer  a  bill  of  fare 

As  human  stomach  e'er  digested. 

They  eat  frijoles,  carne,  (free-ho-lays,  car-nay)  corn, 

And  on  a  hog's  intestines  riot; 
Tortillas,  sheeps-head  (hair  and  horn), 

With  chile  (chee-la)  for  the  favorite  diet. 

But  little  care  he  ever  feels, 

So  he  but  apes  the  Spanish  hero, 

With  monstrous  spurs  upon  his  heels, 
And  on  his  head  a  broad  sombrero. 

He  looks  so  grim  and  full  of  fight, 

You  might  suppose  his  temper  soured ; 

But  danger  turns  him  nearly  white, 
And  proves  the  hero  is  a  coward. 


MANNERS  AND  MORALS.  539 

He  grimly  scowls  at  Gringo  jokes, 

Though  he  has  not  a  single  tlaco, 
With  dignity  he  calmly  smokea 

His  cigarette  of  bad  tobacco. 


Smoking  and  lolling  in  the  shade, 
Their  lazy  souls  no  thought  perplexes ; 

But  make  a  chimney  undismayed 
Out  of  the  noses  of  both  sexes. 


They  tell  a  thousand  barefaced  lies, 
To  all  the  saints  in  heaven  appealing 

Confess  their  sins  with  tearful  eyes, 
Devoutly  pray— but  keep  on  stealing. 

They  go  to  church,  believe  in  hell, 

(Where  their  own  torment  must  be  hot  ones), 
They  play  on  fiddles,  ring  a  bell, 

And  worship  God  with  drums  and  shot-guns. 


Upon  their  heads  in  triumph  reign 

Great  swarms  of  vermin,  fat  and  saucy ; 

Those  rovers  of  the  Spanish  mane, 
Cruise  fearless  o'er  an  ocean  glossy. 

Their  mode  of  travel  on  the  road 
Would  frighten  one  who  never  met  a 

Dirty,  screaming,  stupid  load 
Of  Greasers  in  an  old  curreta. 

Great  wooden  wheels,  devoid  of  grease, 
And  oxen  rushing  with  a  vengeance — 

A  noise  like  forty  thousand  geese, 
Or  like  a  score  of  new  steam-engines. 


They  plow  the  soil  with  forked  logs, 
For  fuel  dig  the  earth  with  shovels, 

Cut  grass  with  hoes,  chain  up  their  hogs, 
And  keep  their  horses  in  their  hovels. 

When  Gabriel  plays  his  final  trump, 
And  all  the  nations  are  paraded 

For  grand  inspection  in  a  lump, 
This  breed  will  prove  the  most  degraded, 


540  A    DESIRED    IMPROVEMENT. 

An  earthquake  which  should  sink  the  land, 

Some  great  subterranean  motion, 
And  leave  this  tract  of  barren  sand 

The  pavement  of  a  heaving  ocean , 

Some  huge  convulsive  water  shake, 

Some  terrible  spasmodic  movement, 
Subsiding  but  to  leave  a  lake, 

Would  be  a  most  desired  improvement. 

I've  not,  in  picturing  this  clime, 

Been  either  brilliant  or  pathetic, 
But  told  of  facts  in  simple  rhyme, 

By  far  more  truthful  than  poetic. 

My  photograph,  I  must  confess, 

The  country  does  by  no  means  flatter — 

The  people  and  their  customs  less, 

But  it  is  true — that's  what's  the  matter. 

If  any  think  me  too  severe, 

Or  call  my  yarn  a  wicked  libel, 
I'll  take,  to  prove  myself  sincere, 

My  "  davy  "  on  a  Mormon  Bible. 

The  author  of  this  "pome"  had  to  fly  the  country.  His 
picture  is  a  little  overdrawn,  but  there  is  too  much  truth  for  a 
joke  in  it. 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

A    RJDE   THROUGH   WONDERLAND. 

Diamonds !  perhaps — Curious  stones  in  the  Navajo  country — Ready — Kindness 
of  Agent  Reams— Navajo  Forest— Entering  De  Chelley— The  "  Cliff  Cities  "— 
An  evening  of  beauty — Out  upon  the  Desert — Water!  Water! — Sickness  and 
exhaustion — Navajo  doctoring — Climbing  for  water — Down  again,  and  night- 
ride — Camp  at  last — "  Hah-koh  Melicano !  " — Reach  Moqui — Curious  people — 
Chino  and  Misiamtenah — "  Moquis  steal  nothing." 

to 

REAT  events — if  rumors  and  excitements  may  be  styled 
events — were  about  to  occur  in  relation  to  the  country  I 
was  traversing ;  but  happily  I  was  ignorant  thereof. 
For  had  I  turned  aside  from  my  regular  business  to 
hunt  diamonds,  I  should  undoubtedly  have  been  so 
much  poorer  from  time  lost,  and  the  public  poorer  by  lack  of 
needed  information.  In  my  excursions  about  the  Navajo 
country  I  had  everywhere  remarked  the  strange  abundance  of 
curious  and  sparkling  stones.  Quartz  crystals  might  have  been 
gathered  by  the  bushel.  Every  Indian  had  a  pint  or  so  of 
garnets — none  of  them  particularly  valuable;  and  common 
turquoises  were  so  plentiful  that  many  a  Navajo  belle  was 
adorned  with  a  string  of  them,  ground  into  octagon  shape  and 
worn  as  beads.  Many  other  curious  stones  I  saw,  of  which  I 
did  not  know  the  name.  Continual  discussion  was  in  progress 
among  the  Agency  employes  as  to  whether  it  was,  or  was  not,  a 
diamond  country ;  and  a  little  book  on  "  Diamond  Mines,"  be- 
longing to  Mr.  Keams,  was  read  almost  to  pieces.  My  Navajo 
companions  on  our  trips  brought  me  great  quantities  of  glassy 
pebbles,  of  which  I  selected  only  the  most  curious.  Had  I 
known  then  what  thousands  of  people  learned  after  they  in- 
vested, I  would  have  known  that  the  beautiful  glitter  of  the 
rude  pebble  was  proof  positive  it  was  not  a  diamond. 

541 


PRECIOUS   STONES. 

"All  is  not  gold  that  glitters/7  to  which  the  practical  miner 
adds,  "Nothing  is  gold  that  glitters  in  the  mine;"  for  native 
gold  is  rather  a  dull  mineral.  Similarly  :  "All  that  sparkle  are 
not  diamonds,"  and  nothing  that  sparkles  in  its  native  state  is 
a  diamond;  for  a  native  diamond  is  just  such  a  rough  stone  as 
the  unscientific  would  invariably  reject  as  a  dull,  pebble.  Only 
the  practiced  eye  can  detect  ifr.  The  brilliant  hues  are  in  it, 
somewhere;  but  only  the  lapidary's  skill  can  give  their  bright- 
ness show.  However,  we  did  not  know  that  so  well  then  as  we 
did  three  months  afterwards;  and  when  one  Dr.  Stallo,  jeweler, 
of  San  Francisco,  arrived  at  Defiance  with  a  small  party  and 
provisions  for  six  months,  to  gather  diamonds,  we  considered 
the  matter  about  settled. 

On  the  ant-hills  all  over  that  part  of  Arizona  one  can  often 
find  numbers  of  small  garnets,  brought  there  by  the  ants.  It 
is  generally  supposed  that  they  bring  up  the  bright  stones  and 
shining  gravel  found  on  the  hills,  from  their  chambers  below; 
but  Indians  and  old  plainsmen  say  this  is  an  error,  and  that 
they  bring  them  from  a  distance,  and  pile  them  on  the  dirt 
mound  to  make  a  hard,  firm  surface.  They  are  evidently  at- 
tracted by  bright  articles,  whether  from  a  sense  of  beauty  or 
otherwise,  and  I  have  found  on  their  mounds  garnet,  flakes  of 
mica,  fused  quartz,  and  many  grains  of  glassy  stones.  A  species 
of  aqua-marine  is  very  plentiful,  of  every  size  from  a  grain  of 
wheat  to  a  large  cherry.  The  post  trader  at  Defiance  had  a 
quart  or  so  of  these,  which  looked  to  me  like  those  used  as 
watch  crystals.  A  few  very  fine  sapphires  had  been  found,  one 
of  which  was  taken  to  New  York  and  cut,  proving  quite 
valuable.  Opals  have  been  found  farther  north,  but  rarely. 
There  were  no  specimens  there.  One  "spinel  ruby/'  of  consid- 
erable value,  was  found,  and  many  had  stones  which  they  be- 
lieved to  be  diamonds.  Those  sho.wn  to  me  were  only  fused 
quartz,  or  other  vitreous  stones.  Malachite  is  found  there  in 
small  chips,  a  half  inch  or  an  inch  square;  but  during  my  stay 
an  Indian  brought  from  some  place  south  a  slab  of  it  three 
inches  long.  Some  beautiful  turquoises  were  found  in  the  same 
neighborhood,  and  many  inferior  ones.  The  country  abounds 


TOPOGRAPHY.  543 

in  curious  petrifactions,  and  more  fossils  than  Agassiz  could 
classify  in  a  hundred  years.  It  presents  to  me  the  appearance 
of  a  country  in  which  rivers  were  once  numerous  and  animal 
life  abundant;  but  sudden  drought  came  upon  it,  the  rivers 
dried  up,  and  the  plants  and  animals  turned  to  stone.  In  1871, 
some  men  came  here  from  San  Francisco  and  spent  the  summer 
in  collecting  stones,  supposed  to  be  precious,  of  which  they  took 
away  three  or  four  bushels ;  and  it  was  reported  that  they 
obtained  from  the  whole  mass  over  a  million  dollars  worth  of 
garnets,  rubies,  turquoises,  and  diamonds.  Dr.  Stallo  went 
south  from  Defiance  to  the  region  where  malachite  abounds, 
expecting  to  find  turquoises  in  the  same  vicinity.  Whether 
they  are  right  in  their  theory  that  the  country  has  the  exact 
formation  fora  diamond  region,  I  can  not  say.  It  is  an  elevated 
sandstone  country,  with  few  living  streams  and  many  dry  river- 
beds, with  heaps  of  wash  gravel,  shells  and  curious  petrifactions, 
but  no  indications  of  recent  volcanic  action.  Coal  indications 
are  not  infrequent.  There  is  one  considerable  vein  a  few  miles 
east  of  Defiance.  Whether  these  facts  do  or  do  not  indicate 
precious  stones,  quien  sabe  ? 

Defiance  is  located  on  some  maps  directly  on  the  Territorial 
line ;  by  others  in  New  Mexico,  and  by  others,  still,  some  sixty 
miles  west  of  the  line  in  Arizona.  It  is,  in  fact,  three  miles 
due  west  of  the  surveyed  line.  On  maps  of  later  date  you  will 
find  a  Fort  Canby  in  New  Mexico,  and  Defiance  in  Arizona. 
They  are  the  same,  called  by  different  names.  The  situation  is 
pleasant  and  romantic.  The  Benito  Hills,  averaging  five  hun- 
dred feet  above  the  plain,  run  directly  north  and  south.  On 
the  west  side  of  them  is  a  vast  inclosed  basin,  from  which 
Cafion  Benito  breaks  directly  through  the  hills — a  sharp,  abrupt 
gorge,  square  across  the  formation,  with  perpendicular  walls 
entirely  inaccessible.  The  east  end  of  the  cafion  broadens  into 
a  little  valley,  at  the  mouth  of  which,  though  out  on  the  plain, 
the  fort  is  situated.  A  large  river  once  ran  through  the  gorge, 
of  which  the  successive  periods  can  be  traced  on  the  sandstone 
walls  to  a  hight  of  two  hundred  feet.  This  seems  to  have 
been  the  original  bottom  of  the  canon,  whence  the  river  steadily 


544  WALKING   CATFISH. 

cut  deeper  until  it  had  completely  drained  the  basin  above. 
The  river  had  long  been  dry  when  the  fort  was  located,  but 
several  springs  in  the  east  end  of  the  canon  created  a  stream 
sufficent  to  irrigate  two  sections  of  the  land  on  the  plain.  Here 
the  Navajoes  had  raised  corn  and  melons  from  time  immemorial; 
they  had  no  other  vegetables  when  found  by  the  whites.  The 
present  occupants  of  Defiance  have  thrown  a  dam  across  this 
end  of  the  caiion,  producing  a  beautiful  artificial  lake  some 
three  hundred  yards  long,  and  rising  so  high  as  to  leave  barely 
room  for  a  wagon  road.  The  lake  is  strongly  alkaline,  but  a 
few  rods  below  is  a  strong  spring  of  the  nicest  and  purest  water 
to  be  found  in  these  mountains.  It  is  the  one  important  trea- 
sure of  this  post,  which,  without  it,  would  be  almost  uninhabi- 
table. In  the  States  towns  are  located  according  to  convenience 
for  trade ;  in  the  mountains  settlement  is  determined  by  the 
presence  of  never-failing  water.  The  lake  contains  a  species 
of  "catfish  with  legs,"  which  are  found  in  other  alkaline  lakes 
in  this  region.  I  give  the  name  as  used  there,  but  think  them 
a  species  of  siredons — other  species  of  which  are  found  in  the 
alkaline  lakes  of  Wyoming.  They  have  the  body  and  mouth 
of  a  catfish,  with  a  very  long  tail,  and  four  legs.  At  my 
request  the  Navajo  boys  shot  their  arrows  through  some  of  them 
in  the  shallow  water,  and  brought  them  ashore.  They  were 
ten  inches  in  length,  with  teeth  like  common  fish,  and  skin  like 
catfish.  Their  legs  were  soft,  but  terminated  in  five  claws  as 
firm  as  the  finger  nail.  They  can  climb  a  bank  or  travel  over 
a  dry  bar,  but  never  remain  long  out  of  water. 

Ten  days  among  the  "  gentle  savages  " — for  so  the  Navajoes 
appeared  to  me — had  given  me  a  rest,  and  I  was  ready  to  go 
west,  expecting  to  accompany  part  of  the  tribe  on  their  "sum- 
mer hunt"  down  the  Colorado.  But  time  was  pressing,  and 
I  concluded  to  employ  one  to  take  me  via  De  Chelley  to  the 
Moquis,  where  a  trading  party  would  overtake  us,  and  go  on 
to  St.  George,  in  Utah.  Mr.  Thomas  V.  Keams,  Clerk  and 
Acting  Agent,  outdid  official  courtesy  to  give  me  a  good  send- 
off;  and  calling  in  Juerro,  war-chief  of  the  tribe,  together  they 
selected  a  most  intelligent  young  man  of  about  twenty-five.  I 


QUEER  LANGUAGE.  545 

also  procured  gun,  horse,  and  equipments,  blankets  and  provi- 
sions at  reasonable  rates;  for  it  takes  an  Indian  to  trade  with 
an  Indian.  I  was  to  provision  myself  and  one  man  to  the 
Mormon  settlements,  and  one  man  back,  besides  his  fee.  Thus 
ran  the  bill :  Thirty  pounds  of  flour,  ten  pounds  of  bacon,  ten 
pounds  of  sugar,  five  pounds  of  coffee,  and  six  boxes  of  sardines, 
the  whole  costing  but  twenty  dollars.  The  same  sum  to  my 
guides,  and  five  dollars  for  the  hire  of  a  burro,  made  the  total 
expense  for  a  trip  of  nearly  five  hundred  miles,  forty-five 
dollars — not  much  more  than  railroad  fare.  My  horse,  bridle, 
saddle,  lariat,  gun  (a  Spencer)  and  two  Navajo  blankets  cost  me 
two  hundred  dollars;  but  these  are  not  to  be  counted  in  the 
general  expense,  as  they  were  worth  nearly  as  much  in  Utah. 
My  Navajo  knew  a  few  words  of  Spanish,  perhaps  fifty  in  all, 
about  equal  to  my  list  in  his  language;  but  unfortunately  for 
general  conversation,  our  words  covered  about  the  same  objects, 
such  as  travelers  most  frequently  use.  The  following,  from  our 
common  list,  will  enable  Oriental  scholars  to  trace  considerable 
resemblance  between  Navajo  and  the  Turanian  tongues.  (I  re- 
present the  sharp  accent  at  the  end  of  the  word  by  doubling 
the  final  consonant,  and  the  prolonged  nasal  sound  by  n  h.) 

NAVAJO.  MEXICAN-SPANISH.  ENGLISH. 

Tohh,  Agua,  Water. 

Klohh,  Cicata,  Grass. 

Chizz,  Brado,  Wood. 

Knhuh,  Lumbre,  Fire. 

Klee,  Caballo,  Horse. 

Klitt,  Furao,  Smoke. 

Hahkohh !  Veen !  Come ! 

Tennehh,  Hombre,  Man. 

The  numerals,  as  far  as  twenty,  are  as  follows :  Kli,  nahkee, 
tab,  dteen,  estlahh,  hostonn,  susett,  seepee,  nastyy,  niznahh, 
klitsetta,  nahkeetsetta,  tahtsetta,  dteentsetta,  estlahta,  hostahhta, 
susetetta,  seepetta,  nastytsetta,  nahta,  nahta  kli,  nahta  nah- 
kee, etc. 

June  18th,  we  were  off  at  10  A.  M.,  the  whole  population 
(white)  joining  us  in  a  "stirrup-cup,"  and  waving  a  hearty 
good-bye.  John,  as  I  christened  my  Navajo  companion,  has  an 
35 


546  NAVAJO   PASTURES. 

intellect  that  is  not  to  be  sneezed  at.  He  knows  the  whole 
country  between  the  Big  and  Little  Coloradoes  like  a  book ; 
and  in  the  good  old  days  before  his  tribe  were  bound  by  trou- 
blesome treaties,  has  been  on  many  a  trip  to  the  Mormon  settle- 
ments in  the  business  of  equine  abduction.  (Nobody  steals 
now-a-days.)  He  rides  a  short  burro,  which  carries  in  addition 
the  flour  and  bacon ;  while  I  ride  a  large,  gray  American  horse 
and  take  charge  of  the  sugars,  coffee,  and  other  light  articles. 

Our  direction  is  north  by  northwest  to  the  head  of  Caflon  de 
Chelley.  All  this  part  of  Arizona  consists  of  a  succession  of  high, 
almost  barren  sandstone  ridges,  separated  by  narrow  valleys 
abounding  in  rich  grass.  While  on  its  eastern  border  I  thought 
the  Navajo  Reservation  a  very  poor  strip — it  contains  nearly 
6000  square  miles — but  since  I  have  seen  more  of  it  I  think 
it  will  graze  at  least  half  a  million  sheep  and  goats,  besides 
horses  enough  for  the  necessities  of  the  tribe. 

Three  miles  out,  a  turn  around  a  sandstone  cliff  brought  to 
view  a  delightful  surprise  in  the  shape  of  a  beautiful  green 
valley,  about  a  mile  square,  perfectly  level  and  covered  with 
grass  a  foot  high.  On 'every  side  of  it  rose  bare  columns  and 
ridges  of  sand-rock,  but  from  their  base  trickled  here  and  there 
tiny  rills  of  water — enough  to  keep  the  valley  fertile.  Herds 
of  sheep  and  goats,  attended  by  Navajo  girls,  and  some  horses 
attended  by  boys,  enlivened  the  scene.  Through  this,  and  on 
to  another  sand  ridge,  then  three  miles  more,  brought  us  to  a 
long  narrow  valley,  winding  for  miles  among  the  hills,  and 
looking  as  if  it  had  once  been  the  bed  of  a  river,  and  been 
heaved  up  by  some  convulsion.  For  hours  we  crossed  such 
valleys  every  two  or  three  miles,  none  of  them  more  than  a 
hundred  yards  wide,  and  separated  by  barren  ridges.  The 
grass  in  the  valleys  was  rank  and  thrifty;  the  ridges  had 
nothing  but  an  occasional  sprig  of  sage  brush  or  cactus..  Every- 
where along  the  grass  plats  were  shepherd  girls  with  consider- 
able flocks,  each  girl  carrying  a  set  of  Navajo  spools  and  a 
bunch  of  wool,  on  which  she  worked  in  the  intervals  of 
watching.  These  spools  are  very  similar  in  shape  to  those 
used  in  our  rural  districts,  but  large  and  clumsy.  With  a 


NAVAJO   FOREST.  547 

pointed  stick,  turned  in  the  right  hand,  the  spinner  runs  the 
wool  on  to  the  larger  spool  in  rolls  somewhat  smaller  than  the 
little  finger.  Having  filled  it,  and  transferred  to  a  smaller 
stick,  she  runs  it  to  the  smaller  spool  in  the  form  of  a  very 
coarse  yarn,  when  it  is  ready  for  the  "  filling  "  in  a  blanket. 
Herding  is  the  most  laborious  work  the  Navajo  girls  have  to 
do;  they  have  all  the  advantages  of  the  healthful  climate, 
without,  the  fatigue  of  long  expedition,  and  are,  as  a  rule, 
stronger  and  healthier  than  the  men.  They  are  the  only 
Indian  girls  I  ever  saw  who  even  approximate  to  the  Cooper 
ideal.  Their  dress  is  picturesque,  consisting  of  separate  waist 
and  skirt;  the  former  leaves  the  arms  bare,  and  is  made  loose 
above  and  neat  at  the  wraist ;  the  latter  is  of  flowered  calico, 
with  a  leaning  to  red  and  black,  and  terminates  just  below  the 
knee  in  black  border  or  frills.  Neat  moccasins  complete  the 
costume,  the  limbs  being  left  bare  generally  in  the  summer. 
They  are  very  shapely  and  graceful,  and  their  strength  is  pro- 
digious. How  these  mountaineers,  on  the  thin  food  they  have, 
manage  to  produce  such  specimens  of  perfect  physical  woman- 
hood, is  a  mystery  to  me.  One  of  the  prettiest  girls  I  saw  at 
Defiance,  named  "Zella"  by  the  Teacher,  who  knew  a  little 
English,  informed  me  that  for  months  at  a  time  she  had 
nothing  but  goats'  milk,  boiled  with  a  thin,  watery  root,  which 
they  use  for  food.  Where  goats'  milk  is  plenty,  the  children 
thrive  well  on  that  alone.  These  shepherds  are  the  best  situ- 
ated of  any  part  of  the  tribe,  and  their  living,  though  plain,  is 
not  so  uncertain  as  that  of  the  cultivators. 

From  the  grazing  region,  we  descended  a  slope  of 'some  two 
hundred  feet  to  a  wooded  hollow,  on  the  opposite  side  of  which 
we  encountered  a  rocky-faced  hill,  rising  six  or  seven  hundred 
feet,  thick-set  with  scrubby  pines,  and  barely  accessible.  Toil- 
ing up  this,  with  frequent  rests  when  a  "shoulder"  of  the  rock 
gave  our  animals  level  standing  room,  we  entered  at  the 
summit  on  the  most  magnificent  forest  I  have  seen  since  leaving 
California.  The  tall  sugar  pines,  from  three  inches  to  two  feet 
in  thickness,  mingled  with  a  few  dwarfish  oaks,  were  scattered 
in  regular  proportion,  and  their  branches  completely  excluded 


648 


BEAUTIFUL   VALLEY. 


THROUGH   THE  NAVAJO  FOREST. 

the  sunshine.  A  cold  wind  had  chilled  us  on  the  ridges,  but 
in  "the  forest  there  was  a  dead  calm,  though  we  could  hear  the 
breeze  sighing  far  above  us.  This  splendid  natural  park  con- 
tinued for  ten  miles;  then  we  descended  to  another  valley, 
where  the  soil  was  evidently  rich,  though  perfectly  bare  for 
want  of  water ;  but  around  the  edges  was  a  bordering  meadow 
of  good  grass,  spangled  with  red  and  yellow  flowers.  This 
valley  is  an  oval  some  five  miles  long,  opening  northward,  and 
lacks  only  water  to  become  a  little  Eden.  From  this  we  rose 
to  another  forest,  also  of  sugar  pines,  but  not  so  large  or  thrifty 
as  the  first.  My  guide  informs  me  that  these  forests  are  as 
long  as  they  are  wide,  and  as  we  traveled  twelve  or  fifteen 
miles  through  them,  they  must  cover  some  two  hundred  square 
miles.  This  will  be  a  great  source  of  wealth  to  the  Navajoes, 


INTO    BAT   CANON.  649 

if  they  learn  how  to  use  it;  for  when  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific 
Railroad  is  completed,  every  section  of  this  timber  will  be 
worth  at  least  five  thousand  dollars.  The  timber  continued  to 
the  entrance  of  Bat  Cafion,  by  which  we  enter  the  De  Chelley. 
There  my  guide  points  to  a  side  gulch,  exclaiming,  Tohh  klohh 
no  mas,  and  we  stop  for  the  night.  Hoppling  the  horse  for  a 
night's  grazing,  we  sample  our  provisions,  with  satisfactory 
results,  and  retire.  Navajo  blankets  will  not  admit  the  moist- 
ure of  the  ground,  even  if  there  had  been  any,  which  there 
was  not;  and  with  two  over  me,  and  the  saddle  blanket  below 
me,  I  was  comfortable  till  toward  morning,  when  the  cold  was 
more  intense. 

June  19th. — We  hasten  to  descend  into  the  cafion  before 
the  sun  is  high,  going  down  the  first  hollow,  which  soon  widens 
into  a  sandy  plain,  dotted  with  scrubby  hemlocks,  and  some- 
times with  timber  of  larger  growth.  The  surroundings  all 
show  that  we  are  on  the  Pacific  coast :  the  dry,  gray  and  yellow 
grass,  straight  sugar  pines  and  scraggy  hemlocks,  and  the  soft 
airs  loaded  with  resinous  odors.  We  enter  next  upon  a  vast 
flat  of  sandstone,  on  which  the  little  feet  of  Navajo  buwos 
have  cut  the  trail  into  a  groove  two  inches  deep,  and  cross  it  to 
Bat  Cafion.  The  first  view  of  it  is  frightful  enough.  We 
come  suddenly  to  an  abrupt  break  in  the  sandstone,  no  more 
than  a  rod  wide,  but  down  which  we  can  look  to  the  yellow 
bottom,  eleven  hundred  feet  below.  The  trail  runs  along  the 
cliff  to  a  point  where  the  canon  has  widened  to  a  hundred 
yards ;  then  enters  a  side  cafion,  and  leads  down  to  the  main 
one,  and  through  a  series  of  rocky  grooves  we  work  our  way 
with  slow  and  cautious  steps.  Making  the  packs  and  saddles 
fast,  each  man  fixes  his  lariat  to  train  over  the  horse's  back ; 
gets  behind,  and  slowly  urges  him  down  the  rocky  incline. 
There  are  several  places  where  even  the  thickness  of  a  man's 
limb  is  too  much  between  the  horse  and  the  cliff,  and  he  would 
suffer  a  fearful  squeeze,  or  be  the  cause  of  throwing  himself  and 
horse  hundreds  of  feet  down  the  ragged  rocks.  We  advance, 
perhaps,  half  a  rnile  in  descending,  and  near  the  bottom  the 
caflon  again  narrows,  and  we  pass  under  overhanging  cliffs, 


5.50 


STRANGE    FORMATION. 


WIND  CARVINGS. 


through  a  gorge  where  the  sun  never  shines,  and  thousands  of 
gaunt  bats,  of  a  strange  species,  inhabit  the  crevices  of  the 
cliffs,  and  flit  about  in  midday  twilight.  According  to  my 
guide,  this  is  the  place  by  way  of  which  cowardly  Navajoes 
must  enter  the  spirit  land  after  death. 

Passing  this  the  narrow  walls  give  back,  and  we  are  in  a 
valley  with  running  water  and  occasional  clumps  of  grass,  a 
hundred  yards  wideband  bounded  by  perpendicular  cliffs.  As 
we  proceed,  the  valley  gets  wider,  but  the  walls  appear  to  over- 
hang rather  than  maintain  a  plumb  line.  Occasionally,  an 
entirely  detached  rock  is  seen  standing  out  from  some  sharp 
corner  where  there  is  a  turn  in  the  cafion,  a  sort  of  tower 
several  hundred  feet  high,  and  no  more  than  a  hundred  thick, 
its  sides  and  summit  cut  into  a  thousand  fanciful  shapes  by  the 
action  of  sand  and  wind.  Other  pieces  of  the  cliff  seem  to 


STONE    MENAGERIE. 


551 


have  slipped  loose  and 
slid  down  where  there 
was  a  slight  incline,  and 
many  such  I  saw  of  two 
hundred  feet  in  hight, 
enormous  slabs  leaning 
against  the  wall.  In 
other  places  portions  of 
the  stone  were  harder 
than  the  rest,  and  re- 
sisted the  wearing  pro- 
cess, and  now  stand  out 
from  the  wall,  or  on  the 
edge  of  the  cliff  above 
in  fanciful  and  gro- 
tesque likeness.  Ele- 
phants, hippopotami, 
alligators,  and  most 
ludicrous  human  heads 
are  seen  from  below ; 
and  atone  point,  where 
the  northern  wall  pro- 
jects some  distance  over 
its  base,  a  gigantic  bear 
seems  to  be  plunging 
over  from  the  summit. 
The  cailon  had 
widened  into  a  con- 
siderable valley,  with 
many  strips  of  grass; 
when  the  guide  called 
out,  "mahloka!" 
(woman),  and  a  shep- 
herd girl  came  spring- 
ing down  over  the 
rocks  in  a  side  gulch, 
so  small,  that  I  had  not 


LEANING  TOWER. 


noticed  it.     She  showed  me,  through 


552  THE   THREE   PEAKS. 

the  narrow  opening  into  the  gulch,  that  the  latter  widened  out 
behind  the  cliffs  into  a  rocky  valley  where  her  herd  of  goats 
were  feeding.  She  preferred  the  common  request  for  chin-ne-ah- 
go  (bread),  and  in  return  for  a  small  gift,  conducted  us  to  a 
plat  of  good  grass,  near  the  junction  of  Gallon  de  Chelley,  where 
we  let  our  animals  graze  two  hours,  as  I  intended  remaining  in 
the  cailon  all  day.  I  have  said  that  the  Navajoes  are  apt,  social, 
and  industrious;  but  these  virtues  are  balanced  by  some  trouble- 
some vices:  they  will  beg,  and  occasionally  steal,  in  which  they 
are  like  all  other  wild  Indians.  But,  if  you  employ  one,  he  will 
neither  take  nor  let  others  take  the  value  of  a  cent;  in  which 
they  are  unlike  nearly  all  other  Indians.  We  had  scarcely  got 
our  baggage  piled,  before  the  whole  community  of  three  families 
were  about  us.  I  pacified  them  with  tobacco,  preferring,  if  we 
got  into  a  strait,  to  do  without  that,  rather  than  bread. 

Bat  Cailon  there  runs  nearly  straight  west,  and  is  joined  by 
Cafion  de  Chelley  from  the  northeast;  the  meeting  of  the  two  and 
the  turn  below  produces  three  grand  peaks,  facing  to  one  center, 
some  fifteen  hundred  feet  high,  and  quite  perpendicular.  But 
the  most  remarkable  and  unaccountable  feature  of  the  locality  is 
where  the  two  cailons  meet.  There  stands  out  a  hundred  feet 
from  the  point,  entirely  isolated,  a  vast  leaning  rock  tower,  at 
least  twelve  hundred  feet  high,  and  not  over  two  hundred  thick 
at  the  base,  as  if  it  had  originally  been  the  sharp  termination  of 
the  cliff,  and  been  broken  off  and  shoved  farther  out.  It  almost 
'seems  that  one  must  be  mistaken,  that  it  must  have  some  con- 
nection with  the  cliff,  until  one  goes  around  it  and  finds  it  a 
hundred  feet  or  more  from  the  former.  It  leans  at  an  angle 
from  the  perpendicular,  I  should  say,  of  at  least  fifteen  degrees; 
and  lying  down  at  the  base  on  the  under  side,  by  the  best  "  sight- 
ing" I  could  make,  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  opposite  upper  edge 
was  directly  over  me.  That  is  to  say,  mechanically  speaking, 
its  center  of  gravity  barely  falls  within  the  base,  and  a  heave  of 
only  a  yard  or  two  more  would  cause  it  to  topple  over.  Appear- 
ances indicate  that  it  was  originally  connected  with  the  point  of 
the  cliff,  but  the  intermediate  and  softer  sand-rock  has  fallen, 
been  reduced  to  sand,  and  wafted  away  down  the  cailon.  Climb- 


"  ETTAH-HOGANDAY."  553 

ing  to  some  of  the  curious  round   holes  in  the  cliff  I  could  se» 

O 

the  process  of  wear  going  on;  the  harder  particles  of  the  sand 
being  blown  into  the  holes,  were  being  whirled  about  by  th« 
wind,  slowly  and  steadily  boring  into  the  cliffs,  and  beginning 
that  carving  which  is  to  result  in  more  of  the  grotesque  shapes. 

We  were  off  at  noon,  after  a  light  lunch,  and  while  leaning 
on  the  pommel  of  my  saddle  in  an  after  dinner  rest,  I  was 
startled  by  a  shout  from  my  guide  of  "  Ah-yee  !  Ah-yee,  Melicano, 
cttah-hoganday  !  "  ("  There,  there,  sir  American  ;  the  mountain- 
houses.")  Looking,  I  saw  the  first  hamlet,  a  small  collection  of 
stone  huts  some  fifteen  hundred  feet  albove  the  cafion  bed,  and 
perhaps  three  hundred  feet  below  the  summit.  One  glance 
served  to  disprove  many  of  the  theories  advanced  about  rope 
ladders  and  the  like.  It  could  not  have  been  reached  thus,  for 
the  cliff  overhung  considerably  both  above  and  below  it.  In- 
deed, a  rope  dropped  from  the  brow  of  the  cliff  above  would 
have  swung  over  the  cafion  a  hundred  feet  farther  out  than  the 
ledge  on  which  the  houses  stood.  As  near  as  I  could  judge  at 
the  distance,  the  ledge  was  fifty  feet  wide,  and  the  houses  sonr» 
twenty  feet  square.  Evidently  the  "Aztecs"  who  boarded  ther« 
did  not  go  to  bed  by  means  of  a  rope  ladder. 

My  guide  was  now  all  life  and  animation,  shouting  and  calling 
my  attention  to  everything  of  note  on  the  cliffs  as  we  walked 
our  horses  slowly  down  the  sandy  stream.  He  seemed  to  take 
as  much  interest  in  the  ettah-hoganday  as  I  did.  An  hour 
more  brought  us  to  a  better  object  of  study  :  the  ruins  of 
a  considerable  village  were  on  the  bottom  of  the  canon,  by 
the  foot  of  the  cliff,  and  about  a  hundred  feet  straight  above 
them,  ten  or  a  dozen  houses  in  perfect  preservation,  standing  all 
together  on  a  ledge  a  hundred  feet  wide,  and  completely  inac- 
cessible. Above  the  village  the  cliff  was  perpendicular  for  a 
hundred  feet  or  more,  then  gradually  swelled  outwardly  till  it 
extended  considerably  over  the  houses,  leaving  them  thus  actu- 
ally in  a  great  crevice  in  the  rook.  Here  was  a  wonder.  My 
Navajo  ran  about  with  the  activity  of  a  cat,  and  in  several  places 
managed  to  climb  up  twenty  feet  or  so,  then  the  smooth  wall 
cut  off  further  progress.  Hunting  along  the  rock  he  found  and 


554 


"  AH-YEE  !  MELICANO,   ETTAH   HOGANDAY  I" 


INSPECTION   OF   THE   BUILDINGS.  555 

called  my  attention  to  some  holes  looking  like  steps  cut  into  the 
stone,  which  seemed  to  lead  up  to  a  point  where  one  of  the 
peculiar  stone  slabs  I  have  described  leaned  against  the  cliff. 
The  opposite  side  of  the  cailon  was  accessible,  and  not  more  than 
two  hundred  yards  distant,  so  we  went  over  there  and  climbed 
to  a  point  somewhat  higher  than  the  pueblo.  I  then  saw  that 
the  ledge  or  groove  in  the  rock,  in  which  the  pueblo  was  built, 
ran  along  the  cliff  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  some  distance  beyond 
where  we  found  the  stone  steps;  and  thought  I  saw  indications 
of  steps,  leading  down  from  it  a  little  way  toward  the  detached 
slab.  Possibly,  I  thought,  this  slab  may  have  been  fast  above 
when  the  village  had  inhabitants,  and  furnished  them  a  winding 
stairway.  I  saw  also,  that  the  houses  were  of  a  most  admirable 
construction,  built  of  flat  stones  laid  in  mortar,  and  neatly  white- 
washed inside  ;  and  that  the  joists  were  of  massive  timber,  round, 
nearly  a  foot  thick,  and  dressed  with  some  care.  At  the  distance 
of  seven  or  eight  hundred  feet  there  was  much  uncertainty,  but 
I  fancied  I  also  saw  fragments  of  iron  and  leather  on  the  floor 
of  one  house — the  only  one  into  which  the  sunshine  fell  directly. 
From  the  situation  of  the  cliffs,  I  judge  that  about  10  o'clock  in 
the  morning  the  sun  would  be  shining  directly  in  the  front  doors. 
A  remarkable  echo  is  observable  here.  A  sentence  of  ten 
words  shouted  from  the  south  side,  is  returned  clearly  and  dis- 
tinctly. Not  far  below  we  found  the  ruins  of  another  house, 
not  more  than  forty  feet  high,  with  shelving  rock  below.  The 
Navnjo  found  steps  to  lead  half  way  up.  He  then  walked 
along  a  flat  offset  five  or  six  feet  below  the  house,  and  held  his 
hands  against  my  feet  while  I  climbed  a  shelving  rock  and 
reached  it.  It  was  in  ruins,  and  most  of  the  material  lay  in  a 
heap  in  the  cailon  below.  Only  the  fire-place  and  chimney, 
built  against  the  cliff,  remained  whole;  they  were  of  the  common 
Pueblo  pattern,  and  showed  dabs  of  whitewash.  I  sustained  one 
serious  disappointment.  Through  some  blunder  of  my  guide  or 
the  interpreter  who  instructed  him  at  Defiance,  I  missed  the 
greatest  wonder.  We  ought  to  have  turned  up  the  Cafion  de 
Chelley  from  where  we  entered  it,  and  a  mile  or  two  would 
have  brought  us  to  the  largest  pueblo,  one  capable  of  containing 


556  HOW    DID   THEY    REACH    THEM? 

a  thousand  people,  and  situated  on  a  ledge  fifteen  hundred  feet 
above  the  cafton  and  three  hundred  below  the  cliff.  I  had  been 
told  of  this  at  Defiance,  but  through  ignorance  of  the  locality 
missed  seeing  it  and  several  others.  A  lieutenant  (name  forgotten) 
from  Wingate  visited  it  some  weeks  before  with  ropes  and  a  pow- 
erful field-glass.  From  the  opposite  side  he  saw  the  interior  of 
most  of  the  houses,  all  of  the  common  pueblo  style.  They  were 
neatly  whitewashed,  and  the  fragments  of  acquarra  showed  that 
they  had  translucent  windows.  Broken  pottery  lay  about  in 
heaps,  but  there  were  no  skeletons  or  indications  of  any,  show- 
ing either  that  the  inhabitants  had  ample  time  to  escape,  or  that 
time  has  destroyed  all  trace  of  them.  This  village,  it  is  said, 
could  be  reached  by  ropes  from  above ;  and  as  I  have  only 
partly  attempted  what  ought  to  be  well  and  scientifically  done, 
I  venture  a  suggestion.  A  party  of  half  a  dozen  should  start 
from  Defiance,  with  ropes,  a  ladder  or  two,  and  powerful  field- 
glasses  ;  and  thus  several  of  the  ruins  could  be  reached.  The 
country  is  perfectly  safe,  only  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from 
Santa  Fe,  and  the  Navajoes  are  the  best  of  guides  and  servants. 

Many  and  various  are  the  theories  among  the  few  whites  who 
have  visited  these  places  as  to  their  inhabitants,  and  how  they 
reached  their  houses.  Besides  that  of  the  rope  ladders  previ- 
ously mentioned,  it  is  often  suggested  that  the  bed  of  the  canon 
was  at  that  hight  when  the  houses  were  built,  and  has  since 
washed  down.  But  this  will  not  do,  for  the  plainest  indications 
show  that  it  would  require,  at  the  very  least,  a  hundred  thou- 
sand years  for  such  a  wearing  down,  or  washing  out,  to  take 
place.  Besides,  the  best  evidence  shows  that  the  cafion  is  filling, 
instead  of  deepening,  on  account  of  the  sand  drifting  down.  In 
my  opinion,  these  slabs  of  stone  help  to  explain  it.  But  this 
is  only  a  venture,  and  whether  there  were  once  projections  from 
the  cliff  sufficient  to  furnish  a  road,  since  fallen  away,  it  will 
take  more  evidence  to  settle.  I  can  only  sum  up  as  do  other 
visitors :  the  houses  are  there,  and  I  have  seen  them  ;  but  how 
they  got  there  is  a  mystery. 

Who  were  the  inhabitants  ?  Pueblos,  unquestionably,  I  think ; 
of  the  same  general  stock  as  the  Moquis,  Zuflis  and  Teguas. 


WHO   WERE  THEY?  557 

The  houses  are  an  exact  reproduction  of  those,  formerly  de- 
scribed, at  the  Pueblo  de  Laguna,  including  stone,  mortar, 
towers,  acquarra  windows  and  whitewashed  interior.  The 
country  once,  no  doubt,  contained  five  times  as  many  as  to-day, 
since  swept  off  by  increasing  drought,  Utes  and  Apaches. 
Their  whole  existence  was  a  continual  war.  They  seem  to  have 
retreated  from  the  lower  valleys  to  the  most  hidden  or  defensi- 
ble caflons,  and  then  to  these  clifts,  where  their  horse-riding 
enemies  could  not  follow  them.  There  they  pastured  their 
goats  in  rugged  gorges,  and  cultivated  a  few  little  patches 
where  they  could  find  water.  They  must  often  have  suffered 
seasons  of  iamiue,  and  probably  never  had  an  abundance;  and, 
by  the  kind  law  oil  nature  forbidding  increase  with  no  promise 
but  want  and  misery,  the  nation  slowly  dwindled  away.  The 
Zufiis,  Moquis,  New  Mexican  Pueblos  and  the  Teguas,  perhaps 
also  the  Pimoles  and  Maricopas,  are  their  fragmentary  surviv- 
ors. Their  ruins,  and  broken  pieces  of  their  pottery,  still  attest 
their  former  extent.  Agent  Miller's  party  discovered  on  the 
San  Juan  the  ruins  of  one  pueblo  which  might  have  con- 
tained two  thousand  inhabitants:  nor  was  it  abandoned  on 
account  of  drought :  their  acecquias  still  remain,  and  the  San 
Juan  is  ample  to  fill  them. 

The  formation  of  Cafion  de  Chelley  is  exclusively  of  sand- 
stone; I  have,  indeed,  seen  no  other  kind  for  a  hundred  miles. 
The  cafion  bed  presents  the  appearance  of  a  vast  river  of  sand. 
As  we  journey  down  it,  the  water  sometimes  appears,  and  runs 
a  feeble  stream  for  a  few  rods,  then  disappears,  and  we  travel 
over  what  seems  a  glistening  dry  plain.  But  examination 
shows  the  sand  to  be  quite  moist;  our  horses'  feet  turn  up 
moisture,  and  occasional  Navajo  corn  fields  indicate  some  fertil- 
ity. At  one  place  we  find  a  large  acecquia  running  some  miles 
along  the  northern  side,  which,  the  guide  tells  me,  formerly  ran 
full  till  late  in  the  summer,  but  has  been  totally  dry  for  some 
years.  The  disintegrating  sand  cliffs  are  piling  barrenness  over 
what  was  once  cultivated  land.  Occasionally  bright  meadows 
of  green  grass  appear  on  the  slopes,  and  again  the  river  of  sand 
seems  to  divide  and  flow  around  a  fertile  island  a  little  higher 


558  A    WALLED    CAMP, 

than  the  main  land,  and  containing  a  few  acres  of  dense  wheat- 
grass,  as  high  as  a  man's  head.  Again  we  find  the  cliffs  sinking 
from  a  perpendicular  to  a  slope  of  sixty  degrees  or  so,  and 
bordered  by  considerable  foot-hills;  and  there  we  see  shrubby 
hemlock,  bunch  grass,  a  few  herds  and  Navajo  hogans.  Above 
are  their  goats  clambering  up  what  appears  the  bare,  yellow  face 
of  stone;  but  riding  near  we  observe  hundreds  of  little  gullies 
worn  in  the  rock,  each  with  a  slight  stain  of  soil  and  a  few 
bunches  of  yellow  grass.  Looking  for  camp  early,  we  came 
upon  a  green  island  of  some  ten  acres,  containing  three  Navajo 
huts  ;  my  guide  shouted  to  the  first  shepherd  girl  he  saw,  who 
pointed  to  a  peak  half  a  mile  away,  exclaiming,  "Klohh-tohh!" 
We  rode  thither,  and  to  rny  surprise  found  lhat  the  cliffs  gave 
back  and  inclosed  a  level  plat  of  a  few  acres,  a  sort  of  mountain 
cove,  sodded  with  luxuriant  grass,  and  containing  another 
Navajo  settlement.  Their  goats  were  kind  enough  to  prefer  the 
high  gulches,  leaving  the  green  grass  of  the  plat  in  abundance 
for  our  stock.  In  the  center  was  a  dug  spring,  but  no  running 
water.  The  community  had  abundance  of  goats'  milk  and 
white  roots- — nothing  else. 

While  the  Navajo  prepared  our  supper,  I  went  to  the  first 
hogan,  finding  an  old  man  quite  sick,  who  asked — the  only 
Spanish  he  knew — if  I  had  any  azucar  y  cafe,  adding  that  he 
had  not  tasted  food  for  a  week.  His  daughter  went  back  to 
camp  with  me,  after  the  sugar  and  coffee,  and  all  the  other 
women  in  the  settlement  having  arrived,  they  waited  to  see  us 
eat.  Opening  a  tin  box,  to  their  great  astonishment,  I  took  out 
a  sardine  and  jokingly  held  it  out  for  them  to  see,  then  ate  it, 
when  they  turned  away  with  such  expressions  of  horror  and 
disgust  that  I  was  heartily  ashamed  of  myself.  Their  feelings 
were  probably  about  the  same  as  ours  would  be  on  seeing  a 
Fejee  chewing  on  the  corpse  of  his  grandmother.  Fish  and 
turkeys  either  will  be  or  have  been  human  beings,  in  their  the- 
ology ;  they  never  touch  the  former,  and  the  latter  only  to  escape 
absolute  starvation.  I  had  been  warned  that  I  would  find  my 
Navajo  prone  to  disregard  cleanliness ;  I  found  him  rather  neat 
and  careful.  But  imagine  my  astonishment  when  I  saw  that 


INDIAN    DISEASES.  559 

all  his  native  politeness  could  not  entirely  conceal  his  disgust  at 
eating  with  me!  The  sardines  have  done  the  business  for  my 
reputation  among  the  Navajoes. 

After  supper  I  took  an  evening  stroll  as  far  as  I  could  go  up 
one  of  the  gulches,  and  after  lighting  my  pipe  had  sat  down 
upon  a  rock  to  watch  the  line  of  sunshine  and  shadows  slowly 
creep  up  the  sixteen  hundred  feet  of  the  opposite  cliff,  when  I 
was  startled  by  something  like  a  groan.  Within  a  rod  of  me, 
but  so  low  that  I  had  not  noticed  it,  was  a  temporary  hogan; 
and  glancing  in  I  saw  a  woman  with  ulcerated  face,  lying  on 
an  old  blanket,  and  murmuring  in  troubled  sleep.  She  waked, 
and,  seeing  me,  muttered,  "Hah-koh!"  which  invitation  being 
declined,  she  reached  out  a  trembling  and  blotched  hand,  mur- 
muring, "Nah-toh,  nah-toh"  (tobacco).  Having  given  her  all 
I  had  with  me,  she  became  quite  communicative;  then,  seeing 
I  did  not  fully  understand,  pointed  to  the  sores  on  her  arms 
and  mournfully  muttered,  "Chah-chos,  chah-chos"  a  Navajo 
word  indicating  the  venereal  poison.  She  was  in  the  last  stages, 
and  had  evidently  been  removed  to  this  place  to  die,  as  they 
never  use  a  hogan  in  which  any  one  has  died — another  singular 
resemblance  to  the  Chinese.  Their  physicians  treat  this  disease 
with  the  sweat-house  and  the  application  of  a  peculiar  clayey 
stone,  pounded  fine,  and  indigenous  herbs;  and  often,  white 
men  tell  me,  with  great  success.  There  is  something  horrible 
in  the  idea  of  these  simple  mountaineers  receiving  such  a  curse 
from  the.  superior  race. 

Sunlight  gave  place  to  moonlight  as  I  returned  to  camp, — 
the  bright  moonlight  of  this  climate,  which  poured  a  flood  of 
glory  on  the  barren  scene  east  of  us,  transforming  the  sand  peaks 
to  shining  mountains  of  gold,  and  the  flat  to  a  flowing,  glitter- 
ing stream  of  gems.  I  was  weary,  but  the  sight  was  too  glorious 
for  sleep,  and  so  I  sat  and  gazed  for  hours.  When  I  attempt 
to  philosophize  or  geologize  on  mountain  scenery,  or  speculate 
on  the  age  of  such  peaks  and  cafions,  or  the  causes  that  brought 
them  about,  I  soon  drift  out  of  science  and  into  mystical  imag- 
inings. Such  scenery  never  will  let  me  philosophize  ;  ife  will 
have  me  muse. 


t&O  A   POOR  PROSPECT. 

We  may  go  back,  back,  from  one  geologic  age  to  another ; 
from  cosmic  process  to  cosmic  process;  from  the  wearing  period 
to  the  glacial  period,  and  thence  to  the  cooling  period  and  the 
gaseous  period,  and  come  at  last  to  a  mighty  void,  over  which 
the  mind  can  only  reach  out  to  "  IN  THE  BEGINNING,  GOD — " 

There  in  childhood  we  began;  there,  after  weary  years  of 
science,  must  we  rest.  Reason,  exhausted,  leans  on  faith, 
and  learning's  last  endeavor  ends  where  Moses  and  Revelation 
began. 

June  20th. — We  were  off  at  the  first  glimmer  of  dawn, 
hoping  to  reach  grass  and  water  early  in  the  afternoon,  and 
knowing  that  at  the  best  we  had  a  long  day's  ride  before  us. 
It  is  delightful  for  traveling  till  about  10  o'clock ;  then  the 
morning  breeze  dies  away,  and  as  the  afternoon  breeze  does  not 
rise  till  about  three,  the  intervening  heat  is  terrible.  We  are 
already  nearly  two  thousand  feet  below  Defiance,  and  going  a 
little  lower  every  day,  with  corresponding  change  in  the  climate. 
The  grand  scenery  continues  to  the  very  mouth  of  the  canon, 
which  we  reached  in  two  hours,  then  breaks  down  into  a  brief 
succession  of  foothills  and  ridges  of  loose  sand,  and  brings  us 
to  an  open  plain.  Here  were  two  or  three  sections  of  land 
under  some  sort  of  cultivation  by  the  Navajoes,  but  it  was  the 
most  pitiable  prospect  for  a  crop  I  ever  saw.  The  feeble,  yel- 
low blades  of  corn,  three  or  four  inches  in  hight,  had  struggled 
along  through  drought  and  cold  till  the  heavy  frost  of  June 
17th,  and  now  most  of  them  lay  flat  on  the  ground.  My  guide 
waved  his  hand  over  the  field,  exclaiming,  mournfully,  "  Muerto, 
muerto"  (dead);  "no  chinneahgo  Navajoes"  A  few  of  the  more 
resolute  were  out  replanting,  which  they  did  with  a  sharpened 
stick,  or  rather  paddle.  They  dig  a  hole  some  ten  inches  through 
the  dry  surface  sand  to  the  moist  layer  underneath,  in  the 
edge  of  which  they  deposit  the  grain.  They  plant  wheat  the 
same  way,  in  little  hills  a  foot  or  so  apart,  and  weed  it  care- 
fully till  it  is  grown  enough  to  spade  the  ground.  If  there  is 
water  they  irrigate;  otherwise,  it  has  to  take  its  chances,  and  the 
guide  informed  me  that  the  acecquia  we  saw  issuing  from  the 
caflon  had  been  dry  pasar  muchos  afios.  Twenty  bushels  of 


CHALKY    MOUNTAIN.  561 

corn  and  ten  of  wheat  are  extra  crops.  If  any  citizen  of  rural 
Ohio,  who  can  deliberately  sit  down  three  times  a  day  and  reck- 
lessly eat  all  his  appetite  craves,  is  dissatisfied,  he  ought  to  travel 
awhile  in  this  country.  The  stream  that  sinks  above  gives  this 
tract  enough  of  subsoil  moisture  to  insure  some  growth.  Cross- 
ing the  dry  arroyo  we  rose  on  the  western  side  to  a  vast  flood 
plain,  ten  miles  wide,  and  running  as  far  as  I  could  see  from 
north  to  south.  The  surface  showed  that  it  had  been  flooded 
some  time  within  the  last  few  years  ;  there  was  not  a  trace  of 
alkali  or  other  noxious  mineral,  and  the  soil  was  of  great  natural 
fertility.  But  there  was  not  a  spear  of  vegetation  on  it,  simply 
for  lack  of  moisture.  Here  are  at  least  a  hundred  square  miles, 
formed  of  detritus  and  vegetable  mold,  utterly  worthless  for 
want  of  water.  If  artesian  wells  are  possible,  the  whole  tract 
may  be  of  great  value. 

We  rose  thence  by  a  succession  of  white  sandhills  to  a  horrible 
desert,  which  extended  some  twenty  miles.  Our  horses  suffered 
from  both  heat  and  thirst,  and  the  water  in  our  canteens  was 
soon  simmering  warm.  As  we  neared  a  low  range  of  gray  and 
chalky-looking  hills,  the  sagebrush  appeared  a  little  more  thrifty, 
and  sometimes  showed  a  faint  green  tinge,  indicating  there  was 
water  somewhere  in  the  vicinity.  A  faint  track,  as  if  made  by 
sheep  or  goats,  crossed  our  trail,  whereat  the  guide  whirled  his 
horse  toward  the  ridge,  ran  his  eye  along  the  peaks,  and  se- 
lecting one  which  to  my  eye  in  no  way  differed  from  the  rest, 
exclaimed,  "  Toh!"  and  we  started  for  it.  At  the  mouth  of  the 
gorge  was  a  sickly  little  cotton  wood  in  a  small  depression,  at 
which  the  guide  remarked:  u  Toh  pasar  muchos  anos"  ("water 
many  years  ago"),  and  we  struck  up  the  nearest  gulch.  The  rock 
everywhere  was  crumbling  away;  it  was  like  riding  up  a  moun- 
tain of  chalk.  At  the  foot  of,  and  partly  underneath  a  large 
cliff,  we  found  two  holes,  scooped  out  by  Indian  hatchets,  and 
containing  a  gallon  or  so  of  water  to  each,  the  one  almost  cool 
and  the  other  blood  warm.  After  treating  ourselves  to  a  quart 
or  so  each — my  horse  drank  the  cool  one  and  the  burro  the  other, 
and  we  struck  into  the  desert  again.  On  the  western  side,  my 
guide  had  told  me,  we  should  see  the  last  Navajoes ;  but  we 
36 


iiiiiiiiiiiinii  mi 


562 


VILE    DRINK.  563 

soon  met  most  of  the  colony  driving  before  them  their  little 
herds,  and  to  the  guide's  question  they  replied  that  the  grass 
there  was  gone,  the  water  dried  up  to  one  spring,  and  that  was 
hohkciwah  ki  wano  (decidedly  not  good).  Though  I  did  not  quite 
understand  this,  I  saw,  by  its  effect  on  the  guide,  that  it  was 
bad  news  for  us,  who  had  already  ridden  forty  miles.  We 
found  but  one  family  left,  and  their  brush  hogan  showed  that 
they  were  on  the  move.  The  woman  brought  out  a  copper 
kettle  full  of  water  from  the  only  spring,  a  mile  up  the  gulch 
which  was  horribly  slimy  and  stinking;  but  the  guide  decided 
that  we  must  have  some  of  it,  and  in  an  hour's  climbing  we 
reached  it. 

All  around  the  little  pool  the  sandstone  had  been  trodden  to 
powder,  and  was  blowing  into  the  spring ,  the  water  was  of  a 
sickening  green,  full  of  weeds  and  ugly  creatures,  and  looked 
and  smelt  as  if  ten  thousand  goats  had  'waded  through  it. 
Nevertheless,  a  catholic  stomach  triumphed  over  a  protesting 
nose,  and  I  drowned  half  a  pint  of  it  like  so  much  necessary 
physic,  while  my  horse  drank  freely.  My  Navajo  pointed 
sadly  to  a  few  tufts  of  grass,  which  had  been  chewed  to  the 
ground,  and  even  the  roots  pulled  up  by  the  goats,  and  inti- 
mated, by  gestures,  that  we  must  go  till  long  after  sundown  to 
find  good  grass.  We  were  not  an  hour  on  our  way  when  both 
of  us.  felt  symptoms  of  the  water  "  coming  back  upon  us,"  and 
I  soon  rolled  out  of  my  saddle  on  to  the  sand,  too  sick  to  sit  up. 
The  fluid  part  of  the  water  had  been  absorbed,  and  the  solid 
contents  were  putting  my  stomach  to  its  trumps.  The  guide 
hastily  rigged  a  blanket  on  the  largest  sage  brush,  furnishing 
me  a  little  shade ;  then  placed  another  under  my  head,  gazed 
awhile  at  my  contortions,  and  decided,  as  shown  by  signs,  that 
"  it  must  come  up."  He  ran  to  a  gully  a  few  rods  away  and 
brought  back  a  few  dry,  yellow  flowers,  which  he  lighted  with 
a  wisp  of  sage  brush,  and  held  under  my  nose,  resulting  in  a 
violent  sneezing  and  discharge  of  blood.  He  then  got  my  pipe, 
filled,  lighted  and  placed  it  in  my  mouth  ;  the  taste  was  horri- 
ble at  such  a  time,  but  he  insisted  that  it  was  wano.  As  this 
did  not  seem  to  produce  the  desired  effect,  he  moistened  a  lot  of 


564 


AN    INDIAN    EMETIC. 


tobacco  in  his  mouth  and  rubbed  it  on  the  pit  of  ray  stomach 
and  under  my  arms.  In  a  few  minutes  I  began  to  heave,  and 
shortly  was  relieved  of  everything  in  my  stomach,  and  was 
soon  pretty  well.  But  my  sickness  was  succeeded  by  a  horrible 
thirst,  which  I  had  to  endure  for  fifteen  miles  further.  Then 
we  turned  off  the  trail  to  another  peak  of  rather  hard  sandstone, 
up  which  we  toiled  for  nearly  a  thousand  feet.  Here  he  pointed 

out  a  black  pass  between 
two  rocks,  and  leaving 
our  horses  we  entered  it 
to  find  a  beautiful  pool 
of  cold,  clear  water, 
nearly  a  rod  square  and 
completely  covered  by 
overhanging  rocks.  Here 
we  drank  and  rested  un- 
til the  moon  was  high 
enough  to  light  us  back 
to  the  plain.  My  horse 
either  smelt  the  water  or 
heard  its  splash,  and 
uttered  a  low  pleading 
whinny  that  went  to  my 
heart.  It  was  impossi- 
ble to  get  him  under  the 
rocky  arch  into  the  cave, 
and  I  had  no  vessel  but 
a  tin  cup.  I  tried  that, 
but  could  not  even  moist- 
en his  tongue;  I  wet  ray  handkerchief  and  tried  to  "swab"  his 
mouth ;  he  chewed  it  to  rags  and  bit  my  finger  in  the  opera- 
tion. About  to  give  up  in  despair,  I  thought  of  my  wool  hat, 
and  filled  that  for  him.  It  fitted  his  mouth  admirably,  and 
by  eleven  trips  with  it  he  was  satisfied.  Half  a  dozen  hatfuls 
sufficed  for  the  burro,  and  we  worked  our  way  down  hill  again. 
But  this  time  my  Navajo's  sense  of  locality  failed  him,  and  on 
the  steepest  part  he  took  the  wrong  chute,  pulling  up  his  burro 


VAH  !  MELICANO,   MALO,  MALO 


SLEEPING   IN    THE   SADDLE.  565 

just  in  time  to  avoid  his  plunging  head  first  into  a  ravine,  but 
not  in  time  to  save  himself,  as  the  saddle  girth  gave  way  just 
at  the  Wrong  moment.  As  he  went  head  first  into  a  pile  of 
boulders  and  sand,  I  looked  on  in  horror,  fully  satisfied  that  I 
was  left  alone  in  this  terrible  place ;  but  he  sprang  up  instantly, 
and  with  a  silly  smile,  and,  "  Vah,  vah,  Melicano,  malo,  malo  !" 
remounted  and  rode  on,  only  rubbing  his  crown  occasionally. 

Getting  back  to  the  plain,  we  continued  our  former  course 
southwest  along  the  foot  of  the  mesa.  My  eyelids  began  to 
droop  with  weariness,  and  for  fear  I  should  drop  off  my  horse 
in  sleep,  I  loosed  my  feet,  and  raising  the  stirrup  leathers, 
wrapped  them  about  each  arm.  The  position  was  not  favorable 
to  sleep,  nor  could  I  keep  entirely  awake ;  and  soon  I  suffered 
from  that  dangerous  symptom  of  dreaming  with  the  eyes  wide 
open,  and  fixed  upon  the  very  object  of  my  dream.  The  bright 
moonlight  fell  upon  the  projecting  peaks  of  the  ridge  to  our 
right,  and  I  endeavored  to  keep  awake  by  contemplating  their 
beauty ;  but  as  I  gazed  I  saw  suddenly  a  score  of  bright,  clear 
streams  dashing  down  as  many  gulches,  and  a  broad  savanna 
on  the  plain  below,  rich  and  green  with  inviting  grass.  I 
shouted  to  the  guide:  "  Kloh !  Toh!"  ("grass,  water"),  and 
jerking  up  my  horse,  pitched  forward  on  his  neck  and  awoke. 
I  braced  myself  more  firmly  to  keep  awake,  and  in  a  few  mo- 
ments, looking  on  a  rock  a  little  ahead,  I  saw  a  hideous  painted 
Indian  bound  out  from  behind  it  and  take  position  in  the  sage 
brush  near  the  trail.  I  yelled  to  the  guide  and  grabbed  my 
gun,  and  just  as  the  hammer  was  clicking  under  my  hand, 
Indian  and  rock  disappeared,  and  the  answering  shout  of  the 
guide  brought  me  to  my  waking  senses.  I  knew  there  was  not 
a  hostile  Indian  in  fifty  miles,  so  for  fear  I  should  shoot  my 
own  horse,  I  gave  the  gun  to  the  Navajo,  and  again  resolved  to 
keep  awake.  He  still  pointed  ahead  for  grass,  but  indicated 
that  it  was  now  "pokedo"  ("a  little  way").  While  gazing  on 
a  sand  ridge  we  were  crossing,  I  seemed  to  see  it  covered  with 
grass  and  flowers,  and  shouting  that  this  was  the  place,  reined 
up  my  horse  suddenly,  and  again  butted  him  in  the  back  of  the 
head,  at  the  imminent  risk  of  giving  us  both  the  poll-evil. 


566  "  HAH-KOH,    MELICANO  !  " 

At  last,  about  11  o'clock,  we  reached  the  promised  place  I 
had  anticipated  in  so  many  fitful  dreams — a  little  valley,  rich 
with  bunch  and  herd  grass,  where  we  made  a  "  dry  camp." 
Taking  the  estimated  distance  from  De  Chelley,  and  deducting 
the  remaining  distance  to  Moqui,  we  had  ridden  at  least  sixty- 
five  miles,  probably  much  more,  and  this  under  a  burning  sun, 
without  a  bite  to  eat,  and  with  water  only  three  times.  We 
stood  it  amazingly,  but  it  is  a  wonder  it  did  not  kill  the  ani- 
mals. I  think  the  little  burro t  not  much  bigger  than  a  sheep, 
and  carrying  a  good-sized  Navajo  and  twenty  pounds  of  pro- 
visions, stood  it  better  than  my  horse.  As  soon  as  I  could 
unload  and  hopple  my  horse,  without  removing  any  clothing, 
I  wrapped  both  blankets  about  me,  sank  upon  the  grass,  with 
head  on  saddle,  and  in  two  minutes  was  sound  asleep. 

June  21st. — I  scarcely  seemed  to  have  closed  my  eyes  when 
I  was  aroused  by  a  "Hah-koh,  Melicano"  and  starting  up,  saw 
my  Navajo  with  the  animals  ready  to  mount,  and  pointing  to 
the  east,  already  rosy  with  the  coming  dawn.  Moving  his  hand 
toward  a  point  half  way  to  the  zenith,  he  remarked :  "Kloht 
toh — no  calor"  Spanish,  Navajo,  and  sign-language,  meaning  in 
full,  "By  starting  now,  we  shall  reach  grass  and  water  the 
middle  of  the  forenoon,  and  before  the  heat  of  the  day." 

It  is  astonishing  how  much  conversation  two  men  can  carry 
on  with  only  a  hundred  words  in  common,  if  both  are  good  at 
gesture.  Thus,  on  starting  out  in  the  morning,  I  point  to  the 
zenith  and  ask:  "Kloh,  foA?"to  which  my  Navajo  replies: 
"Ou  ay,"  pointing  to  the  animals  with  a  rapid  gyration  of  his 
fingers.  This  means  in  full :  "  Shall  we  reach  grass  and  water 
by  noon?"  "Yes,  if  the  animals  travel  well."  True,  this  does 
not  admit  of  going  into  the  higher  realms  of  literature  or  phi- 
losophy, but  men  lose  much  of  their  interest  in  those  higher 
realms  while  crossing  these  deserts.  Grass  and  water  are  the 
most  sublime  objects  of  their  search;  and  the  country  is  so 
generally  barren  that  all  journeys  have  to  be  measured  and 
calculated  with  regard  to  the  few  places  where  these  are  to  be 
found.  The  knowledge  of  the  Indians  on  this  subject  seems 
almost  like  a  sixth  sense.  Standing  on  the  plain,  my  Navajo 


MORNING    HIDE. 


567 


"THE  SHADOW  OF  A  GREAT  ROCK  IN  A  WEARY  LAND." 

will  fix  his  eye  on  the  distant  peaks,  of  which  every  one  looks 
alike  to  me,  and  selecting  one,  exclaim,  (<Toh!"  start  for  it,  and 
come  unerringly  to  water.  In  one  instance  we  followed  on  his 
selected  course,  and  found  the  spring  dry,  when  his  confusion 
was  as  great  as  mine  would  be  if  I  should  get  lost  in  my  native 
town. 

We  had  enough  water  in  the  canteen  to  maKe  two  cups  of 
coffee,  after  which  we  found  the  morning  ride  delightful,  and 
through  a  much  better  country,  containing  considerable  grass. 
The  vnlley  soon  narrowed  to  a  mere  pass,  then  opened  suddenly 
to  an  extensive  plain,  in  the  center  of  which,  some  ten  miles 
away,  rose  a  vast  oval  mesa,  which  the  guide  pointed  out  as 
Moqui.  We  stopped  at  the  point  of  the  mountain,  opening  on 


568  DISTANT   VIEW    OF    MOQUI. 

the  plain  ;  but  when  the  guide  indicated  grass  and  water  up  and 
over  a  perfectly  bare  white  sand  hill,  I  shook  my  head.  He 
only  smiled,  and  led  the  way.  With  frequent  rests  to  our 
horses,  we  had  toiled  up  and  over  the  rising  sand  hills  for 
something  like  a  mile,  when  a  sudden  descent  brought  us  into 
a  circular  hollow,  containing  half  a  dozen  shrubs  and  nearly  an 
acre  of  densely  matted  grass.  At  the  foot  of  the  cliff  was  a 
slight  moisture,  and  pointing  to  a  black  rock  which  appeared 
nearly  five  hundred  feet  straight  above  us,  the  guide  intimated 
there  was  our  spring.  Everything  was  stripped  from  the  ani- 
mals except  the  lariats,  but  how  we  ever  got  them  up  that  hill 
is  a  mystery  to  me;  but  we  did,  and  found  plenty  of  good 
water,  brought  down  our  supply,  and  remained  in  this  camp 
until  3  P.  M. 

I  am  now  convinced  that  my  horse  could  go  up  or  down  any 
pair  of  stairs  in  (Cincinnati.  We  had  exhausted  what  bread  we 
started  with,  and  cooked  a  fresh  supply  here;  after  which  we 
enjoyed  a  delightful  "  laze"  of  four  hours  in  the  shadow  of  the 
rock. 

From  this  point,  when  the  afternoon  breeze  had  sprung  up, 
we  entered  upon  the  sandy  plain,  and  followed  a  slight  trail 
towards  the  mesa.  Occasional  depressions  were  filled  with 
yellow  bunch  grass,  but  most  of  the  plain  was  of  hard  bare 
white  sand,  seeming  to  literally  bake  in  the  heat  of  the  sun. 
Approaching  the  foot  of  the  mesa  we  found  the  sand  a  little 
more  loose  and  dark.  Here  I  noticed  rows  of  stones  a  foot  or 
so  apart,  and  was  amazed  to  find,  on  examination,  we  were  in  a 
Moqui  field.  By  every  little  hill  of  corn  or  beans  they  had 
laid  a  stone,  about  half  the  size  of  a  peck  measure;  for  what  I 
cannot  imagine,  unless  it  is  to  draw  moisture. 

From  the  foothills  I  gazed  with  astonishment  upon  the  per- 
pendicular walls  and  projecting  cliffs  of  the  mesa,  rising  a 
thousand  feet  above  me.  It  is  little  over  half  a  mile  long  and 
half  as  wide,  and  rises  abruptly  from  the  plain  on  every  side; 
around  it  run  half  galleries  and  footpaths,  winding  in  and  out 
upon  the  crevices  and  projecting  shelves  of  rock ;  and  far  above 
my  head,  as  it  seemed  almost  in  mid-air,  I  saw  goat-pens  upon 


STRANGE    EMOTIONS. 


569 


SHEEP-PENS  AT   MOQUI. 

the  very  face  of  the  cliff,  and  opening  back  into  dark,  cool 
caves,  where  the  stock  is  inclosed  at  night.  Here  and  there 
was  to  be  seen  a  Moqui  woman,  toiling  wearily  up  the  rocky 
galleries  with  a  water-jug  strapped  on  her  back;  and  above,  on 
the  summit,  I  saw  the  houses,  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  above  me, 
looking  like  pigeon-houses  set  on  a  cliff. 

The  sight  was  one  to  awaken  strange  emotions.  I  was  look- 
ing upon  the  chosen  stronghold  of  the  most  peculiar  and  unac- 
countable of  all  American  Indians;  probably  upon  an  ancient 
seat  of  the  Aztecs ;  upon  a  city  about  which  all  has  been  con- 
jecture and  romance,  founded  upon  the  vague  reports  of 
prospectors  and  hunters,  but  which  no  writer  had  visited  and 
described  ;  a  town  the  very  existence  of  which  is  often  considered 
fabulous.  As  a  natural  fortification  it  is  probably  the  strongest 


570  AT    THE    FOOT    OF    THE    MESA. 

in  the  land.  Around  the  entire  mesa  there  is  but  one  narrow 
way  that  a  horse  can  ascend,  and  on  that,  at  a  score  of  points,  a 
squad  of  boys  with  nothing  but  stones  could  defy  the  cavalry  of 
the  world.  The  springs  which  supply  the  community  are  situ- 
ated around  the  base  of  the  highest  cliffs,  where  the  foothills 
begin,  but  so  far  up  that  most  of  them  can  not  be  reached  by 
horses  from  below;  and  even  most  of  their  little  fields  are 
hidden  among  the  foothills,  and  only  to  be  found  from  above. 
From  the  general  level  of  the  plain  to  the  flat  top  of  the  mesa  I 
estimate  at  a  thousand  feet.  Half  of  this  rise  is  by  a  succession 
of  rolling  sand  ridges,  and  then  we  come  to  a  perpendicular 
cliff,  only  surmountable  by  these  rock-hewn  galleries.  The 
community  owns  neither  horses  nor  cattle ;  nothing  but  goats, 
and  equally  agile  burros,  can  surmount  the  obstacles  of  such  a 
situation.  It  is  at  once  the  strongest,  most  astonishing  and  un- 
accountable site  for  a  town  I  ever  saw.  f 

We  entered  upon  the  ascent  in  a  hot  and  narrow  pass  between 
two  sand  ridges,  and  soon  reached  the  first  spring,  below  which 
was  a  succession  of  walled  fields.  Each  field  was  about  three 
rods  wide  and  six  long,  and  contained  some  three  hundred  hills 
of  corn ;  they  were  built  up  against  the  sand  ridge,  a  stone  wall 
four  or  five  feet  high  forming  at  once  the  division  for  one  and 
support  for  the  dirt  in  the  next,  the  fields  rising  in  a  succession 
of  terraces.  The  feeble  stream  was  exhausted  before  it  passed 
the  second  field,  and  it  is  only  in  the  night  that  the  lower  ones 
can  be  irrigated.  Farther  down,  where  there  is  no  water,  the 
Moqui  digs  a  hole  in  the  sand  eighteen  or  twenty  inches  deep, 
and  plants  his  corn  where  a  slight  moisture  has  percolated  from 
above.  We  passed  the  slope,  and  were  about  to  enter  on  the 
gallery  road,  when  a  Moqui  shouted  to  us  from  directly  over- 
head, and  in  obedience  to  his  directions,  though  at  the  imminent 
risk  of  our  necks,  the  guide  turned  down  a  rocky  footpath  to 
another  gallery.  A  few  steps  showed  us  that  a  vast  sand-rock 
had  fallen  across  the  other  road,  and  a  new  one  had  been  built. 

All  the  men  of  the  place  seemed  to  be  absent  as  we  turned 
the  last  groove  in  the  gallery,  and,  almost  before  we  were  aware 
of  it,  the  houses  looking  so  much  like  stone,  were  right  in  the 


MISIAMTEWAH.  571 

first  town.  At  Defiance  I  was  told  to  ask  for  Chino,  the 
Capitan  of  this  mesa,  before  I  talked  to  any  one  else ;  so  I 
shouted  to  call  out  some  one.  A  woman  came  on  top  of  the 
nearest  house,  and  seeing  me  immediately  set  up  a  cry  of  jokow! 
jokow !  Then  from  every  house  women  and  children,  with 
occasionally  a  man  or  good-sized  boy,  came  running  on  to  the 
house-tops  and  down  the  ladders  to  the  street,  while  the  cry 
went  ahead  from  house  to  house,  jokow  !  jokow !  jokow  !  A 
population  of  several  hundred  was  soon  crowding  about  me,  or 
gazing  in  astonishment  from  the  house-tops;  the  women  were 
chattering  and  exclaiming,  and  the  children  when  I  rode  near 
a  house  yelling  with  fright,  and  altogether  we  were  creating  a 
decided  sensation.  Again  I  called  for  Chino,  and  a  dozen  boys 
jumped  into  the  road  and  ran  along  the  cliff,  beckoning  me  to 
follow.  We  passed  through  the  first  town,  the  whole  popula- 
tion following  in  a  tumultuous  mass,  and  in  the  scond  town — a 
hundred  yards  on — found  and  were  admitted  to  the  lower  part 
of  Chino's  house.  He  was  not  at  home,  but  they  let  us  into  an 
extension  of  his  dwelling,  containing  but  one  story,  where  we 
deposited  our  packs.  Twenty  boys  and  women  were  already 
on  the  house-top,  jostling  each  other  to  look  through  the 
square  opening  at  us ;  as  many  more  were  crowding  into  the 
room,  and  about  four  hundred  were  outside  struggling  for  a 
good  place. 

It  is  not  pleasant  to  be  stared  at,  even  by  barbarians ;  my 
Navajo  also  got  embarrassed,  and  suggested  that  Chino  could  not 
be  far  away,  and  a  few  shots  from  my  gun  would  bring  him. 
I  stepped  to  the  edge  of  the  cliff  and  fired  three  shots  as  fast 
as  I  could  run  the  slide  of  my  "  Spencer/7  which  elicited  uni- 
versal cries  ofjokow!  Then  an  old  woman  suggested  some- 
thing that  sounded  like  Mice-eye,  and  a  boy  was  sent  after  that 
person.  He  arrived  in  a  few  minutes  and  asked  at  once,  in 
pretty  good  Spanish,  who  I  was,  what  I  wanted,  where  I  came 
from,  where  was  I  going,  and  what  did  I  intend  to  do  when  I 
got  there  ?  His  name  he  told  me,  and  had  it  written  on  a  card 
by  some  white  man,  was  Misiamtewah.  He  had  seen  the  Mor- 
moneys,  and  could  talk  Moqui,  Tegua  and  Spanish,  and  a  few 


572 


EL    CAPJTAN    CHINO.  57-"5 

words  of  English.  What  could  I  talk,  and  what  did  I  want 
at  Moqui  ?  I  made  friends  with  him  at  the  start. 

Chino  soon  arrived  and  assigned  us  a  large  and  commodious 
room,  a  sort  of  addition  to  his  house.  Here  were  the  cooking 
utensils,  and  a  few  books  left  by  Mr.  T.  C.  Crothers,  son  of  the 
Pueblo  Agent  at  Santa  Fe,  who  had  visited  Moqui  the  previous 
year  and  remained  several  weeks.  With  them  were  a  number 
of  star  candles,  some  writing  paper,  a  clay  pipe,  and  old  news- 
papers, all  of  which  Chino  had  religiously  preserved,  and  now 
delivered  them  to  me.  Per  Misiamtewah,  Chino  assured  me 
this  was  rny  room,  my  town,  my  country  while  I  stayed  ;  and 
John  soon  piled  all  our  property  inside,  and  sent  the  animals 
out  to  Chi  no's  herd.  I  suggested  that  he  had  better  keep  a 
sharp  lookout  for  our  little  luxuries ;  but  he  answered,  with  a 
meaning  smile,  in  halting  Spanish  and  Navajo,  with  gestures 
most  expressive  of  hooking,  what  might  be  fully  translated  thus: 
"  Oh,  no,  Sefior,  among  Mexican  and  Melican  you  watch ;  Na- 
vajo you  watch,  when  you  have  no  good  one  with  you;  but  here 
you  never  watch  at  all ;  Moquis  steal  nothing."  It  proved 
literally  true.  Not  one  of  Chino's  family  would  touch  an  ar- 
ticle without  my  invitation;  and  it  is  the  testimony  of  all,  that 
among  these  people  the  women  are  chaste  and  the  men  scrupu- 
lously honest. 

By  the  third  day  of  our  stay  John  is  in  a  fever  of  anxiety 
to  go  home.  He  ought  to  be  satisfied  to  await  my  pleasure, 
for  he  is  enjoying  three  meals  a  day  at  my  expense ;  but  the 
impecunious  cuss  knows  there  is  five  dollars  waiting  for  him 
there,  when  he  brings  letters  from  me,  and  he  wants  to  get  there 
and  have  a  time  with  the  boys.  Luckily,  he  cannot  buy  whisky, 
but  he  will  have  his  spree  all  the  same ;  and  his  extravagance 
will  break  out  in  reckless  displays  of  new  paint  and  flowered 
calico,  and  lavish  gifts  of  white  sugar.  I  hate  to  part  with  him, 
for  he  has  proved  a  good  fellow.  Like  most  common  Indians, 
the  poor  fellow  has  no  name,  or  I  should  immortalize  him. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

THE     LAST     OF     THE     AZTECS. 

Theory  and  fact — What  I  know  about  the  Moquis — Location — Numbers — 
Dwellings — Dress — A  dinner  of  State — Dog-meat  and  a  Catholic  stomach — 
Strange  dialogue  on  religion — Tuba  and  Telashnimki — Oraybe  Radicals — Fur- 
ther enquiries — Division  of  the  subjects — Mounds  in  Ohio — In  Mississippi 
Valley — Mexico — Central  America — Peru — Theories — Jews,  Chinese,  Malays, 
Phoenicians,  Romans,  or  Atlanteans — Modest  conclusion. 

HO  are  the  Moquis?  This  historical  conundrum  must 
be  referred  to  the  class  of  inquiries  relative  to  the 
"  Mound- Builders,"  and  other  prehistoric  races  of 
America ;  for  it  is,  to  my  mind,  self-evident  that  the 
civilized  Indians  of  Arizona  are  but  the  last  feeble 
remnants  of  a  long  series  of  races.  Theory  is  worthless  with- 
out a  good  basis  of  fact.  Let  me,  therefore,  recount  what  I 
saw  before  I  attempt  antiquarian  researches. 

The  three  Moqui  towns,  on  the  one  mesa,  where  I  spent  four 
days,  are  situated  as  nearly  as  I  can  determine  in  latitude  36° 
north,  and  between  the  meridians  110°  and  111°  west  of 
Greenwich;  in  the  center  of  an  oval  plain,  some  twenty  by 
thirty  miles  in  extent.  It  appears  to  be  walled  in  by  precipi- 
tous mountains,  with  five  or  six  openings ;  but  this  is  only  in 
appearance,  as  a  succession  of  ridged  mesas,  scattered  over  the 
country,  appear  to  the  traveler  at  any  one  point  as  forming  a 
circle.  Around  the  border,  where  it  rises  toward  the  enclosing 
hills,  the  plain  is  rich  in  bunch  and  white-seed  grass;  whence 
toward  the  towns  it  falls  off  to  a  horribly  barren  plain  of  dry 
and  burning  sand.  From  this  plain  the  mesa  rises,  oval-shaped 
and  equally  on  every  side,  to  the  hight  of  one  thousand  or 
twelve  hundred  feet.  At  first  view  I  set  it  down  as  much 
higher,  but  having  since  been  around  it,  and  climbed  down  and 
574 


A    NATURAL    FORTRESS. 


NORTHWEST  FRONT   OF  MOQUI. 

up,  I  reduce  it  somewhat.  This  rocky  mole,  of  mingled  white 
and  red  sandstone,  with  a  lower  stratum  of  soapstone,  is  nearly 
half  a  mile  long,  (I  measured  it  by  stepping),  and  not  quite  a 
quarter  wide.  From  the  edge  the  cliff  falls  off  perpendicularly, 
or  even  with  a  slight  overhang,  some  half  way  down  ;  then  the 
foothills  begin  and  slope  away  in  a  succession  of  sandy  inclines. 
At  one  place  only,  by  rock-hewn  galleries  and  dug  and  walled 
ways,  can  horses  reach  the  summit.  In  two  other  places  per- 
sons can  descend  or  ascend  by  toilsome  climbing.  Up  one  of 
these,  leading  to  the  main  spring,  I  toiled  for  an  hour.  The 
Moqui  women  ascend  it  in  fifteen  minutes,  with  heavy  water 
jugs  slung  on  their  heads,  springing  from  shelf  to  shelf  of  the 
rock  with  amazing  agility. 


576  SEVEN    TOWNS. 

The  three  or  four  springs  which  supply  the  place  break  out 
from  under  the  rock  about  the  point  where  the  abrupt  cliff  joins 
the  foot-hills,  and  can  all  be  fortified  against  the  approach  of  an 
enemy  from  below.  All  the  provision  is  stored  as  fast  as 
gathered,  in  the  houses,  and  thus  they  seem  always  ready  to 
sustain  a  long  siege.  As  far  as  possible  up  the  cliffs,  where 
caves  open  inward,  flats  have  been  worked  upon  the  rock,  and 
sheep  and  goat  pens  constructed  leading  into  the  caves.  As  I 
stand  upon  the  cliff  soon  after  sunrise  I  can  look  down  hun- 
dreds of  feet  into  the  outer  portion  of  these  pens,  and  see  the 
Moquis  milking  their  goats  in  what  seems  like  a  great  rocky 
balcony  standing  out  from  the  wall.  All  around  extends  the 
yellow  plain,  and  as  I  walk  upon  these  bights  in  the  bright 
starlight,  it  seems  tossing  and  heaving  below  me  like  a  sea  of 
molten  brass. 

Moqui,  a  common  name  given  by  whites  and  the  other 
Indians,  is  only  the  name  of  one  town;  but  there  are  seven  in 
all :  Moqui,  Moquina,  Tegua,  Hualpec,  Shepalawa,  Oraybe, 
and  Beowawe — so  spelled  by  the  Spaniards,  but  pronounced  by 
themselves,  respectively,  Mokee,  Mokeenah,  Taywah,  Wallpake, 
Shapalawah,  Orybay,  and  Baowahway.  The  first  three  on  this 
mesa  contain  altogether,  I  conclude,  about  a  thousand  inhabit- 
ants. Their  houses  are  generally  square,  and  of  "first  rate 
architectural  design.  They  are  built  of  flat  stones  laid  in  a 
fine  cement,  which  seems  to  harden  with  time;  the  joists  are  of 
immense  timbers,  apparently  a  species  of  sugar  pine,  hewn 
round ;  they  are  plastered  heavily  inside,  and  whitewashed  with 
a  material  which  gives  a  hard,  smooth  polish.  Thus  they  are 
easily  kept  clean,  and  always  have  a  neat,  inviting  appearance; 
indeed,  there  is  very  little  dust  or  dirt  flying  about  on  the 
mesa.  Sand  storms  raised  below,  strike  against  the  cliff  some 
distance  down. 

Houses  are  built  together  in  groups,  with  but  narrow  pas- 
sages between,  and  thus  neither  town  covers  more  than  four  or 
five  acres.  They  are  two  or  three  stories  in  hight,  the  stories 
each  very  high  except  the  lowest.  That  is  seldom  used  in 
summer,  and  Dot  being  more  than  four  or  five  feet  high,  I  at 


SOLID   CONSTRUCTION. 

I 


577 


DISTANT  VIEW  OF  ORAYBE. 

first  thought  it  only  a  raised  platform  on  which  the  main  house 
stood,  until  they  showed  me  the  square  holes  opening  into  it, 
and  the  interior  arranged  for  living.  On  this,  the  second  story, 
two  or  three  feet  narrower  all  around,  rises  ten  or  twelve  feet. 
Upon  the  joists  of  this  are  piled  willows,  or  other  long  branches 
two  or  three  feet  deep,  covered  with  dirt,  which  is  again  over- 
laid with  hard  plastering,  smoothed  and  polished,  making  at 
once  roof  for  the  second,  and  floor  for  the  third  stories.  This 
is  never  more  than  half  or  a  third  as  large  as  the  second,  and 
(which  struck  me  with  astonishment,  as  did  the  same  fact  at 
the  Laguna  Pueblo),  the  upper  walls  are  often  built  directly 
across  the  lower,  and  supported  entirely  by  the  immense  joists. 
They  sleep  on  these  roofs  altogether,  ascending  by  ladders,  or 
37 


578  A  FRIENDLY  RACE. 

by  the  projection  of  stone  always  built  out  at  one  of  the  corners 
so  as  to  form  a  rude  staircase.  The  better  class  carpet  their 
houses  with  sheep-skins,  and  all  have  sheep-skins  to  sit  on, 
though  the  floor  is  kept  scrupulously  clean.  There  is  not 
dampness  enough  to  produce  troublesome  mold,  even  in  the 
lowest  story,  and  only  one  noisome  insect,  (genus  unknown  to 
me,)  the  presence  of  which  is  at  once  betrayed  by  the  white- 
wash, so  it  is  easily  guarded  against. 

I  had  supposed  they  were  a  rather  reserved  people,  but  I 
found  them  exceedingly  kind  and  communicative.  When  the 
novelty  of  rny  appearance  had  worn  away  a  little,  and  I  could 
walk  about  town  without  a  wondering  crowd  after  me,  I  rarely 
turned  toward  a  house  without  receiving  the  welcome  wave  of 
the  hand  to  the  lips  and  breast,  with  the  words,  "Ho,  Melicano, 
messay  vo;"  or  sometimes,  as  many  know  a  few  words  of 
Spanish,  " Entre:  Pasar  adelante."  Then  a  boy  or  girl  would 
run  down  the  stone  staircase,  and  extend  a  hand  to  steady  me 
in  ascending.  They  took  me  into  every  room  in  their  houses, 
and  seemed  to  take  a  pride  in  exhibiting  their  best  specimens 
of  pottery,  wicker-jugs,  and  other  property.  Of  their  children 
they  were  particularly  demonstrative ;  and,  indeed,  they  looked 
well  enough.  I  did  not,  in  all  the  towns,  see  a  single  birth- 
mark, blotch  or  deformity,  except  albinism.  Children  of  both 
sexes  go  entirely  naked  till  about  the  age  of  ten  years.  I  noted 
one  curious  fact:  The  small  children  seemed  almost  as  white  as 
American  children,  till  the  age  of  six  months  or  a  year;  then 
they  began  to  turn  darker,  and  at  ten  or  twelve  had  attained 
to  a  rich  mahogany  color.  They  play  for  hours  along  these 
cliffs,  chasing  each  other  from  rock  to  rock  at  that  dizzy  bight, 
and  yet  they  seemed  surprised  when  I  asked  if  accidents  did 
not  happen. 

Their  mode  of  living  is  very  simple,  and  I  happened  upon  a 
time  of  unusual  scarcity.  The  general  drought  of  the  past 
three  years  had  cut  off  their  crops.  As  often  as  Chino,  the 
Capitan  of  this  mesa,  visited  me,  I  had  presented  him  a  tin  of 
warm,  sweetened  coffee,  of  which  they  are  very  fond,  and 
which  was  the  only  thing  I  could  spare;  and  I  had  partaken 


HIGH    LIVING.  579 

of  parched  corn  with  him  the  evening  of  my  arrival,  when  I 
received  a  special  invitation  to  dine  with  him  "  the  day  before 
I  left."  (People  with  weak  stomachs  may  skip  the  next  para- 
graph.) 

They  breakfast  early,  and  dine  between  11  and  12.  Be- 
sides Misiamtewah,  a  sort  of  official  interpreter,  there  is 
another  Moqui  who  speaks  Spanish  tolerably  well,  having 
been  a  year  in  Tucson  and  Prescott;  and  both  were  at  dinner 
with  us.  We  sat  upon  sheep-skins  on  the  floor,  in  a  circle 
around  the  earthern  bowls,  in  which  the  food  was  placed.  The 
staple  was  a  thick  corn  mush,  which  to  me  was  rather  tasteless 
for  the  want  of  salt.  The  regular  bread  of  the  Moqtiis  is  a 
decided  curiosity.  The  wheat  is  ground  with  mdats  (smooth 
stones),  as  by  the  Navajoes,  but  much  finer,  six  or  seven  women 
grinding  together,  reducing  the  flour  to  the  merest  dust.  It  is 
then  mixed  as  thin  as  milk;  the  woman  cooking  dashes  a 
handful  on  the  hot  stone,  where  it  cooks  almost  instantly,  and 
comes  off  no  thicker  than  paper,  and  of  a  bright  blue  color. 
The  flakes  are  about  two  feet  long,  and  as  they  are  stacked  two 
or  three  feet  deep  on  the  platter,  look  remarkably  like  a  pile 
of  blue  silk.  They  raise  white,  blue  and  red  corn ;  and  by 
various  mixtures  of  the  meal  with  wheaten  flour,  produce  seven 
different  colors  in  the  bread.  These  they  stack  in  alternate 
layers  for  a  feast,  producing  a  pretty  effect.  It  is  very  sweet 
and  nourishing,  but  there  are  two  objections  to  it :  one  can  eat 
an  hour  or  two  before  getting  satisfied,  and  then,  in  some  cases, 
they  mix  it  with  chamber-lye,  which  makes  it  all  a  little  suspi- 
cious. Clean  as  their  houses  are,  they  are  as  dirty  in  their 
cooking  as  the  wild  Indians,  and  will  not  compare  at  all  with 
the  Navajoes.  Their  goats'  milk,  as  I  purchased  it,  was  always 
so  suspicious,  that  in  this  case  I  took  my  private  tin  cup  along, 
and  strained  my  own  share  through  a  handkerchief  I  reserved 
for  that  purpose.  It  was  rather  an  awkward  thing  for  an 
invited  guest  to  do,  but  I  did  not  perceive  that  it  gave  any 
offence.  But  the  piece  de  resistance  was  the  meat,  which  con- 
sisted of  the  hinder  half  of  a  very  fat  young  dog,  elegantly 
dressed  and  well  cooked,  that  animal  being  the  favorite  food 


580 


STEWED   DOG. 


GROUP  OF   MOQUIS. 

of  the  Moquis.  It  is  subject  to  greater  extremes  than  beef; 
the  meat  of  an  old,  lean  dog  is  very  tough,  and  that  of  a  fat, 
young  puppy,  very  tender.  I  took  from  my  own  store  a  box 
of  sardines,  and  Misiamtewah  was  prevailed  upon  to  eat  one; 
but  Chino  and  the  rest  rejected  them  with  horror.  There's 
gastronomic  prejudice  for  you.  This  man  is  sweet  on  dog, 
and  rejects  a  sardine  with  abhorrence;  my  Eastern  friends 
take  sardines  with  avidity,  but  their  gorge  rises  at  the  thought 
of  dog,  while  my  catholic  stomach  takes  dog  and  sardine  with 
equal  impartiality.  Parched  corn  completed  the  bill  of  fare, 
with  beverage  of  goat's  milk.  Both  the  Moquis  and  Navajoes 
never  use  it  until  heated  almost  to  the  boiling  point;  but  after 
one  cup  of  this,  I  requested  and  was  served  with  mine  cold. 
The  stove,  ingeniously  constructed  of  flat  stones,  is  either  on  the 
ground  just  beside  the  door,  or  on  the  roof  of  the  first  story,  by 
the  door  of  the  second. 


MODE   OF  FARMING.  581 

With  my  Navajo  guide  and  Chino's  son,  we  formed  a  very 
pleasant  party  of  six,  and  had  quite  a  social  time.  The  second 
interpreter  informed  me  that  he  went  to  Prescott  some  years 
ago  with  Melicanoes  and  Meshicauoes,  and  that  they  named 
him — it  was  probably  in  sport — Jesus  Papa  (Hay-soos  Pahpah). 
He  was  much  more  communicative  than  Misiamtewah,  and 
had  a  very  fair  idea  of  the  Americans.  To  these  simple  people 
I  represented  in  person  all  the  dignity  of  that  great  Nation,  of 
whom  such  wonderful  reports  had  reached  them.  And  here  I 
must  own  to  a  little  deceit.  They  were  at  first  very  inquisitive 
as  to  my  business,  and  could  not  imagine  why  a  white  man 
should  be  making  such  a  long  trip  with  only  Indians  for  com- 
panions. Savage  people  can  rarely  understand  that  intelligent 
curiosity  which  is  the  product  of  civilization,  and  suspect  some 
ulterior  purpose  when  one  has  nothing  to  trade,  and  wishes  to 
buy  nothing.  Repeatedly  questioned  at  first,  I  told  Chino  I 
was  un  escribano  del  Gobicrno  de  los  Indios  ("  a  writer  for  the 
Government  in  regard  to  the  Indians  "),  which  may  be  passed 
as  partly  true  in  a  sense. 

The  Moquis  have  a  close  struggle  for  existence.  The  sand 
surrounding  the  mesa  presents  the  poorest  show  for  farming  I 
ever  saw,  yet  everywhere  among  these  sand  hills  are  their  little 
walled  fields,  three  or  four  rods  square,  and  from  the  measure 
Papa  showed  me,  I  estimated  that  his  field  had  produced  what 
would  amount  to  twelve  or  fifteen  bushels  of  corn,  and  half  as 
much  wheat  to  the  acre.  The  water  from  neither  of  the  springs 
runs  more  than  ten  rods  before  sinking  in  the  sand  ;  but  in 
some  places  they  have  constructed  little  troughs  of  rock  or 
wood  which  carry  a  stream  perhaps  as  big  as  one's  finger  to  the 
field  and  help  the  case  a  little.  With  a  sharp  stick  they  dig  a 
hole  about  eighteen  inches  deep  through  the  top  sand,  which 
brings  them  to  a  stratum  of  moister  sand,  in  which  they  lodge 
the  grain.  Around  the  hill  they  then  place  a  few  stones,  and 
after  dressing  in  clean  clothes,  sit  in  solemn  silence  for  hours  by 
the  fields — supposed  to  be  praying  for  rain.  If  no  rain  comes, 
which  is  generally  the  case,  they  usually  carry  water  in  their 
wicker  jugs  from  the  spring,  and  pour  a  pint  or  so  on  each  hill. 


582 


HISTORY   AND   TRADITION. 


I  suppose  the  stones  are  put  there  to  draw  or  retain  moisture  ; 
but  it  may  be  merely  to  mark  the  exact  spot.  A  month  often 
elapses  before  the  stalk  appears  above  ground.  It  rarely  grows 
more  than  two  feet  high,  and  the  ear  is  short  and  thick,  with 
dark,  round,  very  hard  grains,  much  like  that  variety  we  used 
to  call  "  squaw  corn  "  on  the  Wabash.  Along  the  foot  of  these 
bordering  sand-hills,  in  the  shallow  where  there  seems  to  be 
some  moisture,  and  in  the  bordering  mountains,  grow  many 
peach  trees,  which  bear  abundantly  every  year.  The  kernels 
of  the  stones  are  pounded  and  formed  into  little  cakes,  used 
apparently  as  a  sort  of  relish.  With  all  this  the  difficulty  of 
living  is  very  great,  and  the  industry  and  enterprise  displayed 
quite  astonishing.  Their  sheep  and  goats  are  always  sure  of 
good  pasture  somewhere  in  the  neighborhood,  and  these  furnish 
their  dependence  when  all  else  fails. 

Of  history  or  tradition  they  seem  to  have  little  or  none,  and 
all  my  endeavors  failed  to  discover  the  slightest  trace  of  any 
religion.  The  simplest  form  in  which  I  could  put  questions 
on  that  point  seemed  to  completely  bewilder  them.  The  Span- 
ish word  Dios  they  had  never  heard,  and  the-American  word 
God  only  as  an  oath,  and  did  not  know  what  it  implied.  To 
my  question,  "  Who  made  all  these  mountains?"  Papa  only 
smiled,  then  stared,  and  finally  replied  :  "  Nada  ;  siempre  son 
aqui."  ("Nothing;  they  are  always  here.")  Fearing  from 
this  that  my  limited  command  of  Spanish  had  caused  him  to 
misunderstand  me,  I  entered  into  a  very  minute  explanation,  in 
the  simplest  possible  words,  of  our  belief,  and  had  him  repeat 
till  I  was  sure  he  fully  understood  it,  but  apparently  it  roused 
no  answering  conceptions  in  his  mind.  Part  of  the  talk  struck 
me  as  so  curious  that  I  at  once  copied  it : 

Myself — The  Melicans  and  Mexicans  have  one  they  call  God, 
or  Dios.  We  think  He  made  us,  made  this  mesa,  made  these 
mountains,  made  all  men  and  all  things.  We  talk  to  and  ask 
good  things  of  this  God. 

Papa — Yes;  I  much  hear  Melican  man  say  "G — d " 

(repeating  an  oath  too  blasphemous  to  be  written). 

Myself — No,  no ;  that  is  bad.     He  was  a  bad  Melican  who 


RELIGION. 


583 


STREET  IN   THE   v    DEAD   TOWN. 


said  that.  We  think  this  God  all  good.  Have  the  Moquis 
a  God  like  that  ? 

P. — Nothing  !  (Nada.)  The  grandfathers  said  nothing  ofDios 
— what  you  say  Got — God  (making  several  attempts  at  the  word). 

M. — But,  say  to  me,  who  made  this  mesa,  these  mountains, 
all  that  you  see  there  ? 

P. — Nothing !     It  is  here. 

M. — Was  it  always  here  ? 

P. — (With  a  short  laugh) — Yes,  certainly,  always  here. 
What  would  make  it  be  away  from  here  ? 

M. — But  where  do  the  dead  'Moquis  go?  Where  is  the 
child  I  saw  put  in  the  sand  yesterday  ?  Where  does  it  go? 

P. — Not  at  all.  Nowhere  ;  you  saw  it  put  in  the  sand.  How 
can  it  go  anywhere  ? 


584 


STRANGE   CUSTOMS. 


M.— Did  you  ever  hear  of  Montezuma  ? 
P. — No  ;    Monte — Montzoo — (attempting  the  word) — Meli- 
cano  man  ? 

M. — No ;  one  of  your  people,  we  think.     What   are  these 
dances  for  that  you  have  sometimes  ? 
P. — The  grandfathers  always  had  them. 

So  ended  my  attempts  to  inquire  into  Moqui  theology.  Papa 
may  only  have  been  pretending  ignorance;  if  so,  he  did  it  well. 

This  is  so  different 
from  all  I  had  heard 
of  the  Moquis  that 
it  puzzled  me.  Mr. 
Clark,  Spanish  in- 
terpreter for  the  Pue- 
blos, spent  6  months 
here,  and  he  wit- 
nessed many  religi- 
ous ceremonies ;  and 
Major  Powell,  if  I 
mistake  not,  ob- 
tained from  them  a 
tolerably  connected 
account  of  their  ideas 
of  God,  and  the  im- 
mortality of  the  soul. 
Either  of  two  con- 
clusions is  possible  : 
That  there  is  a  diffe- 
rence of  opinion 
among  them,  or  that 

they  felt  too  much  suspicion  of  a  comparative  stranger  to  tell 
me  anything  about  the  matter. 

But  they  have  another  custom,  in  which,  if  it  have  not  a  reli- 
gious significance,  I  fail  to  see  any  meaning.  About  bedtime 
Chino  goes  to  the  top  of  his  'house  and  utters  a  loud  call  or 
chant  for  about  five  minutes,  after  which  the  whole  population 
are  very  still.  At  the  first  break  of  day  a  man  runs  the  whole 


TUBA    AND    TELASHNIMKI. 


A   DELIVERER   LOOKED    FOR.  585 

length  of  the  mesa  with  a  number  of  cow-bells  attached  to  his 
belt ;  the  entire  population  turn  out  at  once,  and  while  the  others 
proceed  to  milk  their  goats,  the  bellman  and  a  few  young  men 
descend  to  the  plain  and  go  a  mile  or  more  towards  the  East. 
An  army  officer  who  has  visited  them,  says  that  they  look  for  a 
deliverer  to  come  from  that  direction  ;  and  send  an  embassy 
every  morning  to  meet  him  ! 

How  wide-spread,  how  deeply  rooted  is  this  Messianic  idea. 
From  the  Jew  who  looked  for  one  that  should  restore  Israel 
and  break  the  Roman  yoke,  to  the  poor  Hindoo  who  fondly 
trusts  that  the  Tenth  Avatar  will  descend, 

"And  Camdeo  bright,  and  Ganessa  sublime, 
Shall  bless  with  joy  their  own  propitious  clime ; " 

from  the  cultivated  white  Christian  to  the  poor  brown  Moqui 
— all,  all  are  looking  for  One  who  shall  speak  with  authority, 
bring  universal  peace,  and  restore  to  each  his  own.  Is  it  a 
myth?  Did  God  send  hunger,  and  not  send  bread?  Did  He 
implant  a  universal  hope  and  longing,  for  which  He  was  to  pro- 
vide no  realization.  This  world-wide  hope  means  something. 
One  has  come,  or  is  to  come,  who  will  usher  in  a  time 

"  When  useless  lances  into  scythes  shall  bend, 
And  the  broad  falchion  in  a  plow-share  end  ; 
When  wars  shall  cease,  and  ancient  fraud  shall  fail ; 
Returning  Justice  lift  aloft  her  scale  ; 
Peace  o'er  the  world  her  olive  wand  extend, 
And  white-robed  Innocence  from  heaven  descend." 

Of  their  own  arrival  in  the  region  they  now  occupy,  the  Moquis 
have  no  tradition ;  but  have  a  well  connected  account  of  the 
Navajoes,  who  came,  "the  grandfathers  say,"  not  many  genera- 
tions ago,  from  a  northern  country.  They  have  also  a  vague 
account  that  they -were  once  more  rich  and  numerous  than  now. 
"  The  grandfathers "  often  told  them  that  the  ruins  on  the 
adjacent  mesa  were  inhabited  by  a  powerful  race  of  Moquis,  and 
a  big  spring  watered  the  plain ;  but  an  earthquake  threw  down 
many  of  the  houses,  and  dried  up  the  spring ;  many  of  the 


586  OBAYBE. 

people  perished  of  famine,  and  the  remnant  went  to  a  south 
country.  They  have  much  more  acquaintance  with  white  men 
than  I  had  supposed.  Several  Mormons,  particularly  Jacob 
Hamlin,  the  Indian  Agent,  have  visited  them  and  remained 
some  time. 

Telashnimki  and  Tuba,  two  Oraybes,  husband  and  wife, 
accompanied  Hamlin  to  Salt  Lake  City, and  were  delighted  with 
all  they  saw.  Since  their  return,  a  portion  of  the  Oraybes 
have  seceded  from  the  main  body,  and  established  a  new  settle- 
ment, to  which  they  invite  white  men,  and  propose  more  friendly 
relations.  The  Moquis  pointed  out  Gray  be  in  the  distance ; 
but  did  not  think  it  safe  for  me  to  visit  it,  as  the  Apaches  visit 
there  constantly.  The  Mormons  are  establishing  friendly  rela- 
tions with  all  the  tribes  of  northwestern  Arizona,  and  will,  it  is 
to  he  hoped,  succeed  in  peace  in  their  vicinity.  One  question 
frequently  asked  me  was,  "Are  the  Mormoneys  Americans  ? " 
A  plain  affirmative  was  near  enough  to  the  truth  for  the  views 
of  the  Indians;  but,  in  point  of  fact,  the  question  is  open  to 
argument. 

Two  years  before,  an  American  was  wounded  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, and  remained  at  Moqui  nearly  a  year ;  and  the  previous 
winter  Mr.  O.  C.  Crothers,  son  of  the  Pueblo  agent,  at  Santa  Fe, 
had  remained  there  three  or  four  months.  They  now  receive  regu- 
lar annuities  of  Government  goods.  Some  ten  or  twenty  miles 
west  is  another  mesa,  with  three  villages,  and  fifteen  miles  from 
that  the  Oraybe  village;  thus  their  total  number  must  be  about 
three  thousand.  The  Orbayes  refuse  to  receive  an  agent  or 
make  any  treaty,  and  repulse  the  advances  of  whites,  but  have 
committed  no  violence.  They  trade  and  fraternize  extensively 
with  the  Apaches. 

The  dress  of  a  Moqui  consists  of  very  loose  jacket  and  draw- 
ers, made  of  calico  obtained  from  traders.  The  first  is  made 
close  at  the  neck,  and  flows  loosely  to  the  hips ;  the  second 
reaches  from  the  waist  to  a  little  below  the  knees.  Heavy  san- 
dals protect  the  feet.  But  this  dress  is  only  conventional,  and 
they  often  appear  entirely  naked,  except  the  girdle  and  breech- 
clout.  The  women  wear  a  heavy  woolen  of  their  own  nianu- 


INDIAN   POLYGAMY.  587 

facture,  consisting  of  single  skirt  and  a  sort  of  half-waist,  or 
rather  a  fold  thrown  over  the  shoulders,  and  leaving  one  arm 
and  breast  bare.  Their  disposition  is  eminently  civil  and  un- 
warlike.  They  have  a  great  horror  of  shedding  blood,  and 
always  retreated  before  any  attack.  The  oldest  men  have  no 
recollection  of  any  time  when  they  were  at  war,  and  I  saw  no 
weapons  of  war  among  them. 

Polygamy  seems  to  prevail  to  a  slight  extent.  Chino  and 
Misiamtewah  each  have  two  wives,  but  from  what  little  they 
said  on  the  subject,  I  conclude  they  consider  it  a  burden  rather 
than  a  privilege.  The  women  are  rather  hbmely,  short,  and 
stumpy,  I  think  from  carrying  loads  upon  their  head.  None 
of  them  will  compare  with  the  graceful  and  shapely  Navajo 
girls ;  nor  are  they  prolific.  Their  numbers  are  evidently 
decreasing  steadily.  The  town  at  the  south  end  of  the  mesa  is 
slowly  falling  to  ruins;  not  half  the  houses  are  inhabited,  and 
through  the  other  towns  there  are  many  abandoned  dwellings, 
now  used  for  stables  and  sheep  pens,  or  for  storing  hay.  The 
kindly  law  of  nature  will  not  permit  increase  in  a  country  which 
can  only  furnish  a  bare  living.  Moqui  means  "  Dead  Man," 
and  Moquina  may  be  translated  "  Little  Dead  Town."  This 
is  the  half-abandoned  town  on  the  south  end  of  the  mesa;  and 
I  was  informed  by  Jacob  Hamlin  that  some  five  years  before 
most  of  the  inhabitants  there  died  of  small-pox. 

Most  singular  of  all,  two  languages  are  spoken  on  this  mesa. 
The  Tegua  town,  the  one  we  first  enter  on  coming  up  the  cliif, 
has  a  language  quite  distinct  from  the  ordinary  Moqui.  Those 
who  have  examined  say  the  Tegua  is  the  same  as  that  spoken 
by  the  Pueblos  near  the  city  of  Mexico.  If  true,  this  is  a  most 
important  fact,  and  to  my  mind  goes  far  to  supply  the  missing 
link  in  Baron  Humboldt's  history  of  the  Aztecs.  Governor 
Amy,  of  Santa  Fe,  collected  many  facts  on  this  subject,  but 
whether  they  have  been  published  I  do  not  know. 

But  the  most  gratifying  part  of  my  experience  here  was  a 
sight  of  some  of  the  renowned  "white  Indians/' though  the 
result  was  rather  ludicrous  than  otherwise.  I  had  learned  all 
that  Papa  and  Misiamtewah  could  tell  me  on  the  subject,  when 


588  "WHITE  INDIANS." 

the  former  came  to  my  room  one  day  and  stated  that  a  family 
of  them,  three  men  and  two  women,  had  just  come  on  a  visit 
from  the  next  mesa.  I  was  transported  with  delight.  I  now 
had  an  opportunity  to  bodily  examine  a  people  who  might  almost 
be  styled  fabulous.  For  half  a  century  we  have  had  enchanting 
stories  of  this  people,  seeming  all  the  more  romantic  from  the 
fact  that  they  had  to  be  repeated  through  a  dozen  channels  be- 
fore they  reached  the  philosophic  critic.  It  was  said  that  a 
Welsh  family  had  settled  in  the  tribe  two  centuries  ago — as  to 
just  how  they  got  there  the  tradition  was  silent — and  that  their 
descendants  had§multiplied  to  an  extensive  class,  with  white 
skin,  blue  eyes',  and  red  hair.  Another  story  was  that  they  were 
captured  Spaniards,  adopted  into  the  tribe.  But  the  most 
romantic  account  ran  thus:  In  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth  a 
Spanish  fleet  made  a  descent  upon  the  western  coasts  of  Great 
Britain  and  Ireland  and  carried  off  several  hundred  Scotch  and 
Irish.  According  to  the  custom  of  the  time,  they  were  sent  to 
work  in  the  newly-opened  mines  of  Mexico.  There  they 
revolted,  and  escaped  in  a  body  to  the  Aztecs  of  the  north,  who 
were  still  resisting  the  Spaniards,  and  became  the  ancestors  of  a 
new  race.  It  is  a  pity  to  spoil  so  much  romance,  but  the  prosaic 
fact  is,  these  "White  Indians"  are  nothing  but  Indians,  pure 
and  simple,  as  much  so  as  the  blackest  of  the  tribe.  They  are 
nothing  but  albinos,  and  differ  only  from  African  albinos  in  the 
fact  that  this  form  is  rather  more  apt  to  be  hereditary  than  the 
other.  In  the  majority  of  cases  it  is  transmissible,  but  not 
always.  The  fact  is  proved  conclusively  by  hair,  skin,  and 
eyes :  the  first  is  a  sickly,  pinky  red,  mixed  with  white ;  the 
second  is  a  waxy  white,  stained  in  places  with  yellow,  and  the 
eyes  are  very  weak  and  "  mooney,"  or  perpetually  "dancing." 
The  girl  of  this  family  was  almost  blind  at  noon  ;  the  woman 
had  tolerably  good  sight,  but  was  "  moon-eyed  ;  "  and  the  man's 
eyes  looked  like  two  glittering  pieces  of  glass  stuck  in  the  bot- 
tom of  auger  holes.  His  sight,  however,  appeared  tolerably 
good,  and  the  two  boys,  whose  complexions  were  more  nearly 
like  those  of  other  Moquis,  had  good  natural  eyes.  It  is  possi- 
ble, of  course,  that  there  may  be  somewhere  in  Arizona  a  race 


DECAYING   RACES.  589 

of  "  White  Indians,"  but  as  for  these,  among  the  Zunis  and 
Moquis,  they  are  evidently  not  a  distinct  race.  Both  interpre- 
ters tell  me  all  the  others  are  just  like  these;  that  they  some- 
times have  dark  children,  and  occasionally  full-color  Moquis 
have  white  children.  Their  whiteness,  in  fact,  is  nothing  but  a 
disease.  If  the  term  be  medically  correct,  I  would  call  it  a  spe- 
cies of  American  leprosy.  We  need  not  go  far  to  find  the  causes  : 
a  people  living  in  this  hot,  dry  climate,  on  hard,  dry  food,  in 
the  midst  of  burning  sands,  drouth,  and  misery,  and  shut  up  in 
these  little  isolated  communities,  where  the  same  families  have 
intermarried  in  all  probability  for  twenty-five  generations.  The 
only  wonder  is  that  they  are  not  totally  extinct,  or  ring-streaked, 
speckled,  and  grizzled.  With  the  exception  of  their  houses,  the 
Moquis  do  not  appear  to  me  as  much  advanced  in  the  arts  as 
the  Navajoes.  They  weave  blankets,  but  not  as  good  as  those 
of'  the  latter.  They  make  beautiful  crockery,  painting  it  with 
fanciful  figures  and  flowers  by  means  of  different  colored  clays 
or  stones  obtained  from  the  mountains.  Their  cookery  is  infe- 
rior to  the  Navajoes,  and  they  learn  much  less  readily.  They 
are,  in  fact,  a  decaying  race,  at  the  last  end  of  the  series;  while 
the  Navajoes  are  at  the  beginning,  a  new  and  vigorous  race. 

In  the  "good  old  time/'  when  the  Pueblo  races  dominated 
the  whole  country,  they  were  much  more  numerous  than  now, 
and  their  settlements  nearly  continuous;  intermarriages  took 
place  between  the  various  towns,  their  language  was  nearly  the 
same,  and  they  were  prolific  and  progressive.  Now  they  con- 
stitute but  little  islands,  as  it  were,  in  an  ocean  of  Utes,  Nava- 
joes, and  Apaches;  the  separated  towns  have  gradually  grown 
apart,  and  become  distinct  nations ;  they  have  no  central  priest- 
hood or  ecclesiastical  connection,  their  religion  and  learning 
steadily  decay,  and  even  the  tradition  of  a  common  origin  is  fast 
becoming  obscure. 

So  much  for  what  I  know  about  the  Moquis.  And  as  I  pro- 
ceed to  a  wider  range  of  inquiry,  allow  me  to  state  that  in  what 
follows  there  is  no  attempt  at  an  exhaustive  or  scientific  treat- 
ment of  the  subject.  I  merely  aim  to  state,  in  popular  language, 
(1)  What  is  positively  known ;  (2)  What  may  be  considered 


590  THE   MOUND   BUILDEES. 

proved  ;  and  (3)  What  may  reasonably  be  conjectured  in  regard 
to  the  ancient  civilized  inhabitants  of  America. 


I. — WHAT   IS   POSITIVELY  KNOWN. 

A  people  for  whom  we  have  no  name,  vaguely  included  under 
the  general  term  of  Mound-Builders,  have  left  evidences  of  ex- 
tensive works  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Mississippi  and  Ohio  and 
their  tributaries.  These  remains  are  of  three  kinds :  mounds, 
square  and  circular  inclosures,  and  raised  embankments  of  various 
forms.  Of  mounds,  the  following  are  most  important  and  best 
known:  One  at  Grave  Cre^k,  West  Virginia,  70  feet  high,  and 
1000  feet  in  circumference  at  the  base;  one  near  Miamisburg, 
Ohio,  68  feet  high,  and  852  feet  in  circumference;  the  great 
truncated  pyramid  at  Cahokia,  Illinois,  700  feet  long,  500  wide, 
and  90  in  hight;  the  immense  square  mound,  with  face  of  188 
feet,  near  Marietta,  Ohio;  and  some  hundreds  of  inferior  mounds 
from  six  to  thirty  feet  in  hight,  in  different  States,  from  Wis- 
consin to  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi.  Some  of  those  in  Wis- 
consin are  described  in  the  first  chapter  of  this  work.  Unlike 
all  the  mounds  in  Mexico  and  Central  and  South  America,  those 
in  our  country  have  no  trace  of  buildings  on  them.  Why? 
Until  I  visited  Arizona  I  had  no  answer.  There  the  solution 
was  easy.  In  those  regions  stone  was  abundant,  and  timber 
scarce ;  here  the  reverse  was  the  case.  Our  predecessors  built 
of  wood,  the  others  of  stone;  the  works  of  the  latter  remain  to 
this  day,  while  wooden  buildings  would  leave  no  trace  after  one 
or  two  centuries,  if  indeed  they  were  not  burnt  by  the  savages 
as  soon  as  abandoned. 

Of  the  second  class  the  best  known  are  :  the  square  fortifica- 
tion at  Cedar  Bank,  Scioto  River,  Ohio,  with  face  of  800  feet, 
inclosing  a  mound  245  feet  long  by  150  broad ;  the  works  four 
miles  north  of  Chillicothe,  Ohio,  a  square  and  a  circular  forti- 
fication inclosing  twenty  acres  each ;  the  graded  way  near 
Piketon,  Ohio;  about  a  hundred  mounds  and  inclosures  in  Ross 
County,  Ohio ;  the  pyramid  at  Seltzertown,  Mississippi,  600  feet 
long  and  40  feet  high,  and  a  vast  number  of  mounds,  inclosures, 


MEXICAN  ANTIQUITIES.  591 

squares  and  pyramids  on  the  upper  lakes  and  scattered  through 
the  Southern  and  Western  States. 

Of  raised  embankments  I  note :  the  Great  Serpent,  in  Adams 
County,  Ohio,  five  feet  high  and  thirty  wide,  winding  in  ser- 
pentine form  for  1000  feet,  and  terminating  in  a  triple  coil; 
embankments  enclosing  sixteen  acres,  seemingly  intended  to 
fortify  a  hill,  in  Butler  County,  Ohio;  besides  a  number  of 
graded  ways  at  Circleville,  Ohio,  and  Frankfort,  Kentucky. 
The  work  of  Messrs.  Squier  &  Davis,  published  by  the  Smith- 
sonian Institution,  the  highest  authority  on  the  subject,  gives 
account  of  over  two  thousand  of  these  remains,  scattered  over 
the  Southern  and  Western  States.  Their  location  caused  A.  D. 
Richardson  to  say :  "  The  centers  of  population  are  now  where 
they  were  when  the  Mound  Builders  existed/'  But  there  is 
this  important  difference:  the  densest  population  was  then  in 
the  South ;  their  military  border  was  towards  the  North. 

The  second  division  of  American  antiquities  begins  in  Utah 
and  Nevada,  and  extends  southward  through  Arizona  and 
Mexico.  Like  those  in  the  United  States  these  are  pretty  well 
known  and  described  ;  for  but  few  of  them  are  located  in  dan- 
gerous districts.  The  ruins  heretofore  described,  the  Casas 
Grandes  on  the  Gila,  the  remains  of  the  original  City  of  Mex- 
ico, the  great  pyramid  at  Xochicalco,  State  of  Mexico,  the  City 
of  Tulha,  ancient  capital  of  the  Toltecs,  and  a  regular  line  of 
ruins  thence  down  to  Central  America,  and  across  to  the  mouth 
of  the  Mississippi,  serve  to  connect  these  with  those  of  the 
United  States  and  those  further  south.  Among  them  are  re- 
mains of  dwellings,  palaces,  temples,  vast  tumuli,  acecquias  and 
aguadas,  or  artificial  ponds.  They  were  of  hewn  stone  laid  in 
mortar,  and  have  consequently  endured  better  than  our  own 
wooden  erections. 

The  third,  and  by  far  the  greatest,  division  is  in  Central  and 
South  America ;  and  here  we  find  ourselves  at  the  point  where 
our  ancient  civilization  reached  its  hight,  among  works  which 
are  the  astonishment  of  explorers  and  perplexity  of  scholars. 
Yucatan  is  a  vast  field  for  antiquarian  research ;  dotted  from 
one  end  to  the  other  with  the  ruins  of  cities,  temples  and  pal- 


592  ANCIENT  YUCATAN. 

aces.  But  in  the  great  forest  which  covers  the  northern  half 
of  Guatemala,  the  southern  half  of  Yucatan,  and  parts  of  other 
States,  covering  an  area  larger  than  Ohio,  is  to  be  found  the 
key  to  our  ancient  history.  Within  a  few  years  past  cities  have 
been  found  there  which  must  have  contained  a  population  of  a 
quarter  of  a  million,  in  an  advanced  condition  of  life;  and  yet, 
owing  to  the  jealousy  of  the  natives  and  the  indifference  of 
scholars,  next  to  nothing  is  known,  and  few  scientific  researches 
have  been  made  upon  this  intensely  interesting  subject.  Never- 
theless, by  the  labors  of  Stephens,  Del  Rio,  Bourbourg,  Captain 
Dupaix  and  others,  a  good  beginning  has  been  made.  I  ap- 
pend briefly  the  facts  and  figures  definitely  known  : 

Palenque,  in  the  Mexican  State  of  Chiapa,  was  unknown 
alike  to  the  Aztecs  and  invading  Spaniards — forgotten  long 
before  the  time  of  Cortez.  It  is  so  named  from  a  small  town 
near,  now  inhabited.  Two  hundred  years  after  the  conquest, 
to  wit,  in  1750,  the  ruins  were  first  discovered  by  the  Spaniards; 
and  in  1787  Captain  Del  Rio  visited  them,  and  took  measure- 
ments of  "fourteen  edifices  admirably  built  of  hewn  stone,  ex- 
tending seven  or  eight  leagues  along  the  river  Chacamas  and 
half  a  league  the  other  way."  Many  others  have  since  visited 
the  place.  The  largest  building,  called  the  Palace,  has  a  pyra- 
midal foundation  40  feet  high,  310  long  and  260  wide;  the 
edifice  is  228  feet  long,  180  wide  and  25  feet  high,  with  four- 
teen doorways  on  each  side  and  eleven  at  each  end.  It  was 
built  entirely  of  elegantly  hewn  stone,  laid  with  precision,  in 
mortar  of  the  best  quality.  There  is  much  fine  carving,  and 
evidence  of  some  skill  in  painting.  Other  noted  buildings  are 
of  somewhat  smaller  size,  and  the  entire  city  must  have  con- 
tained a  hundred  thousand  inhabitants. 

Copan  is  in  the  extreme  western  part  of  Honduras,  in  a  soli- 
tary and  almost  impenetrable  forest.  The  natives  are  barbar- 
ous and  suspicious  of  strangers.  Nevertheless  the  place  has 
been  visited  and  fully  described.  The  ruins  extend  three  miles 
along  the  river  but  how  far  back  is  not  known.  There  are 
walls  of  sixty  and  ninety  feet  in  hight;  the  front  of  one  palace 
with  richly  sculptured  designs;  another  with  fine  arabesques, 
and  a  number  of  carved  monoliths  and  basso  relievos. 


QUIRIGUA    AND    MITLA.  593 

Quirigua  (Keereewafi)  is  a  name  given  to  a  vast  extent  of 
ruins  on  the  river  Motagua,  in  the  forest  of  Guatemala.  The 
ruins  appear  to  be  much  older  than  those  previously  described, 
and  are  evidently  those  of  an  immense  city.  There  are  pyra- 
midal structures  with  stone  steps,  immense  carved  monoliths, 
large  obelisks  carved  with  human  figures,  and  a  vast  array  of 
broken  walls,  the  sides  covered  by  inscriptions. 

Mitla  is  in  the  Mexican  State  of  Oxaca,  in  a  valley,  sur- 
rounded by  a  barren  waste.  Only  six  edifices  and  three  pyra- 
mids remain ;  but  these  are  most  elegant.  Captain  Dupaix  and 
Desire  Charnay  (who  saw  them  in  1866)  both  speak  in  most 
extravagant  terms  of  the  elaborate  work.  Says  the  latter: 
"  Evidently  the  palaces  were  built  with  lavish  magnificence. 
They  combine  the  solidity  of  the  works  of  Egypt  with  the  ele- 
gance of  those  of  Greece.  But  what  is  most  interesting  and 
remarkable  in  these  monuments,  which  alone  would  be  sufficient 
to  give  them  the  first  rank  among  the  orders  of  architecture,  is 
the  execution  of  their  mosaic  relievos,  very  different  from  plain 
mosaic,  and  consequently  requiring  more  ingenious  combination 
and  greater  art  and  labor.  They  are  inlaid  on  the  surface  of 
the  wall,  and  their  duration  is  owing  to  the  method  of  fixing 
the  prepared  stones  into  the  stone  surface,  which  made  their 
union  with  it  perfect.  Their  beauty  can  only  be  matched  by 
the  monuments  of  Greece  and  Rome  in  their  best  days." 

In  the  same  region  is  an  astronomical  monument,  with  a 
figure  of  a  man  in  profile,  holding  to  his  eye  a  tube  which  is 
directed  toward  the  stars.  On  all  these  ruins  are  found  patches 
of  inferior  stone  work  on  the  superior,  and  evidently  of  later 
date ;  and  on  that  work  traces  of  painting  wholly  primitive  in 
style,  rude  figures  of  men  and  idols,  and  wandering  lines  that 
have  no  significance.  These  facts  are  held  to  indicate  that  after 
the  first  builders,  the  places  were  occupied  by  a  somewhat  in- 
ferior people,  who  in  turn  gave  way  to  comparative  barbarians. 
But  when  we  pass  to  the  third  division,  in  Peru  and  neigh- 
boring countries,  we  find  the  most  conclusive  proofs  of  art  and 
civilization  many  centuries  before  the  first  of  the  Incas.  The 
proofs  multiply  with  every  examination.  There  was  a  vast 
38 


594  A    WONDERFUL    PEOPLE. 

empire,  extending  over  twenty  degrees  of  latitude.  There  was 
one  paved  road  five  hundred  miles  long,  the  pebbles  of  which 
it  was  constructed  so  well  laid  that  large  sections  of  it  remain 
to  this  day.  There  were  curious  manufactures,  and  there  are 
beautiful  monuments.  There  were  gauzy  articles,  wrought  of 
pure  gold,  so  light  that  a  zephyr  might  waft  them  from  your 
fingers.  They  had  complicated  records,  both  public  and  pri- 
vate, kept  by  the  quippus — threads  of  various  colors,  ingeniously 
arranged  and  tied  in  knots  to  express  ideas,  numbers  and  sen- 
tences. A  skull  in  the  possession  of  a  lady  in  Cuzco,  from  one 
tomb,  shows  that  they  understood  the  operation  of  trepanning; 
and  the  skill  displayed  was  equal  to  that  of  the  present  day. 
Their  surgical  instruments,  now  in  the  Bureau  of  Peruvian 
Antiquities,  show  that  they  practised  bleeding,  tooth-drawing 
and  amputation;  they  treated  fractures  by  wrapping  the  broken 
limb  in  several  species  of  plants  till  reunion  of  the  bone  took 
place.  Several  heads  have  been  found  in  which  the  natural 
palate  had  been  destroyed,  and  the  difficulty  somewhat  relieved 
by  a  fine  gold  plate.  Numerous  drawings  both  of  plants  and 
figures  show  that  they  examined  the  tongue  in  gastric  troubles, 
employed  a  species  of  valerian  as  an  antispasmodic,  and  gave  a 
decoction  of  the  plant  from  which  quinine  is  made  as  a  remedy 
for  fevers. 

They  had  timbrels,  bells,  drums,  a  pipe  with  nine  reeds,  a 
stringed  instrument  resembling  the  guitar,  and  a  variety  of  flutes 
and  trumpets.  One  has  been  found,  made  of  a  human  thigh- 
bone. Their  religion  was  a  sort  of  enlightened  idolatry ;  light, 
fire  and  the  sun  were  objects  of  worship;  and  from  numerous 
vases,  cups  and  drawings,  Dr.  Augustus  Le  Plongeon,  latest  and 
most  thorough  explorer,  demonstrates  that  they  practised  bap- 
tism, confirmation  and  confession,  and  believed  in  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul  and  a  future  of  rewards  and  punishments. 

Their  principal  city  was  supplied  with  water  by  pipes  inlaid 
with  gold,  from  immense  springs  in  the  mountains.  The  In- 
dians at  the  time  of  the  Conquest  destroyed  most  of  these,  to 
deprive  the  Spaniards  of  water,  and  the  latter  cut  up  many  for 
the  gold  ;  but  one  remains  entire,  and  now  supplies  the  convent 


PROOFS    POSITIVE.  595 

of  Santo  Domingo.  The  obscurity  hanging  over  their  history 
seems  utterly  impenetrable.  There  are  numerous  inscriptions, 
but  nobody  can  read  them.  Some  few  of  their  books  remain, 
but  scientific  enquirers  have  not  yet  obtained  possession  of  them. 
The  furious  cupidity  and  fanaticism  of  the  Spaniards  cut  off 
our  best  sources  of  knowledge;  they  converted  the  natives  to 
Catholicism  with  the  stake,  sword  and  bloodhound  ;  they  melted 
every  golden  ornament  and  destroyed  the  most  important  forti- 
fications, while  the  priests  burned  every  book  they  could  obtain, 
and  employed  the  most  destructive  means  to  eradicate  from  the 
native  mind  every  vestige  of  their  ancient  faith.  Incredible 
were  the  precious  evidences  of  art  and  learning  that  vanished 
before  the  blind  fury  of  these  gold-hunting  Christians,  who 
only  excelled  those  they  supplanted  in  one  particular — the 
science  of  shedding  blood.  But  it  is  now  known  that  a  few  of 
the  books  escaped.  M.  Brasseur  de  Bourbourg  has  rendered 
one  inestimable  service  to  American  antiquarians.  He  passed 
several  years  among  the  Mayas  Indians  of  Yucatan,  learned 
their  language,  and  thereby  found  a  key  to  translate  one  of  the 
old  books  of  Mayapan,  throwing  a  flood  of  light  upon  its  his- 
tory. But  no  connection  has  been  established  between  it  and 
the  Peruvian  inscriptions. 

II. — WHAT   IS   CONSIDERED  PROVED. 

In  my  limited  space  I  confine  this  enquiry  mostly  to  the 
remains  in  our  own  country.  From  what  we  see  in  the  West- 
ern and  Southern  States,  the  following  conclusions  are  evident : 

1.  The  Mound-Builders  constituted  a  considerable  popula- 
tion, under  one  government.     No  wandering  and  feeble  tribes 
could  have  erected  such  works ;  and  the  extent  of  the  works, 
evidently  many  years  in  erection,  as  well  as  their  completeness 
and  scientific  exactness,  show  the  controlling  energy  of  one 
directing  central  power. 

2.  They  were  an  agricultural  people.     The  barbarous  state 
requires  at  least  a  hundred  times  as  large  an  area  for  the  same 
number  of  people  as  the  civilized  state ;  and  the  savage  condi- 
tion a  much  larger.     The  State  of  Ohio  will  support  an  agri- 


596  THE   TOLTECS   OUK   MOUND-BUILDEKS. 

cultural  population  of  ten  millions ;  it  never  contained  fifty 
thousand  savages.  It  is  easily  demonstrable  that  that  portion 
of  the  United  States  east  of  the  Mississippi  never  contained 
half  a  million,  probably  not  a  quarter  of  a  million,  Indians.  It 
follows,  also,  that  a  very  large  portion  of  the  country  around 
their  works  must  have  been  cleared  of  timber  and  in  cultivated 
fields. 

3.  They  left  our  country  a  long  time  ago.     Nature  does  not 
give  a  forest  growth  at  once  to  abandoned  fields  ;  a  preparatory 
growth   of  shrubs  and  softer  timber  comes  first.     But  forest 
trees  have  been  found  upon  the  summit  of  their  mounds  which 
show,  by  annual  rings  and  other  signs,  at  least  six   hundred 
years  of  growth. 

Their  works  are  never  found  upon  the  lowest  terrace  of  the 
formation  on  the  rivers ;  though  many  signs  indicate  that  they 
built  some  as  nearly  on  a  level  with  the  streams  as  possible. 
Tlieir  "covered  ways,"  leading  down  to  water,  now  terminate 
on  the  second  terrace  above.  It  is  demonstrable  that  of  the 
various  terraces—"  second  bottoms  " — on  our  streams,  the  low- 
est was  longest  in  forming.  From  these  and  many  other  signs, 
it  is  proved  that  the  last  of  the  Mound-Builders  left  the  Ohio 
valley  at  least  a  thousand  years  ago. 

4.  They  occupied  the  country,  at  least  the  southern  part  of 
it,  where  their  population  was  densest,  a  very  long  time.     This 
is  shown  by  the  extent  of  their  works,  the  evidences  of  their 
working  the  copper-mines  of  the  Superior  region,  and  many 
other  proofs.     The  best  judges  estimate  that  nearly  a  thousand 
years  elapsed  from  the  time  of  their  entrance  till  their  de- 
parture from  the  Mississippi  valley. 

5.  At  the  south  they  were  at  peace ;  but  as  they  advanced 
northward,  they  came  more  and   more  into  contact  with   the 
wild  tribes,  before  whom   they  finally  retired — again  towards 
the  south.     These  facts  are  clearly  proved  by  the  increase  of 
fortifications  northward,  and  broad  flat  mounds,  suitable  only 
for  buildings,  southward. 

So  much  for  proof;  and,  connecting  these  with  other  proofs, 
the  latest  antiquarians  are  of  opinion  that  the  Toltecs — the 
civilized  race  preceding  the  Aztecs — were  our  Mound-Builders. 


THE   COLHUAS.  597 

When  we  pass  to  the  more  southern  ruins  the  proofs  of  great 
antiquity,  large  population  and  long  occupation  are  vastly  in- 
creased. Some  of  them  have  been  alluded  to.  The  great 
forest  of  Guatemala  and  Yucatan  is  nearly  as  large  as  Ohio 
and  Indiana  combined,  and  could  easily  have  sustained  a  civil- 
ized population  of  ten  millions.  The  Aztecs,  whom  the  Span- 
iards found,  were  the  last  of  at  least  three  civilized  races,  and 
much  inferior  to  the  Toltecs  immediately  preceding  them. 
Their  history  indicates  that  they  were  merely  one  of  the 
original  races,  who  overthrew  and  mingled  with  the  Toltecs, 
adopting  part  of  their  religion  and  civilization.  The  Peruvian 
Incas,  found  by  Plzarro,  seemed  to  have  been  the  second  in  the 
series  of  races.  But  civilization  is  not  spontaneous ;  it  must 
have  required  nearly  a  thousand  years  for  the  first  of  the  three 
dynasties  to  have  developed  art  and  learning  far  enough  to  erect 
the  buildings  we  find.  To  that  race  before  the  Incas,  the 
authors  of  the  original  civilization,  De  Bourbourg  and  others 
have  given  the  name  of  Colhuas. 

Thus  we  have  the  series :  a  thousand  years  since  the  Mound- 
Builders  left  our  country;  a  previous  thousand  years  of  settle- 
ment and  occupation,  and  a  thousand  years  for  the  precedent 
civilization  to  develop.  Or,  beginning  in  Mexico,  etc. :  a  thou- 
sand years  of  Spaniard  and  Aztec ;  a  previous  thousand  years  for 
Toltec  migration  and  settlement,  and  a  thousand  years  before 
that  for  the  Colhuas  to  develop,  flourish  and  decline.  This 
carries  us  back  to  the  time  when  the  same  course  of  events  was 
inaugurated  on  the  Eastern  Continent.  We  know  that  it  has 
required  so  long  to  produce  all  we  see  in  Europe  and  Asia ;  all 
reasoning,  by  analogy  and  from  independent  facts,  goes  to  show 
that  at  least  as  long  a  time  has  been  required  to  produce  equally 
great  evidences  in  America. 

III. — WHAT    MAY    REASONABLY   BE   CONJECTURED. 

Besides  a  host  of  surmises  there  have  been  at  least  nine 
theories  promulgated,  and  strenuously  defended,  in  regard  to 
the  origin  of  this  civilization. 

1.  The  Jewish  theory.     Some  forty  years  since  Major  Noah 


i 


596 


JEW,    MALAY    OR    ASSYRIAN.  59D 

maintained  that  the  "Lost  Tribes"  were  the  ancestors  of  the 
American  Indians  and  the  builders  of  the  ruins  described ;  and  a 
few  others  held  that,  if  not  the  Ten  Tribes,  there  was  a  Jewish 
Colony.  It  would  certainly  be  an  amazing  thing  if  such  a 
people  as  the  Jews  could,  in  a  few  centuries,  lose  all  trace  of 
their  language,  religion,  laws,  form  of  government,  art,  science, 
and  general  knowledge,  and  sink  into  a  tribe  of  barbarians. 
But  when  we  add  that  their  bodily  shape  must  have  completely 
changed,  their  skulls  lengthened,  the  beard  dropped  from  their 
faces,  and  their  language  undergone  a  reversion  from  a  deriva- 
tive to  a  primitive  type — a  thing  unkown  in  any  human 
tongue — the  supposition  becomes  too  monstrous  even  to  be  dis- 
cussed. 

As  far  as  I  know  Orson  Pratt,  the  renowned  champion  of 
Mormonism  and  polygamy,  is  the  only  scholar  of  the  present 
day  who  maintains  that  theory;  and  he  is  forced  to  admit  that 
all  these  changes  must  have  been^the  result  of  a  stupendous 
miracle — "  God  cursing  them  with  black  skins."  The  average 
Gentile  mind  is  not  equal  to  the  task  of  receiving  such  a  theory. 
From  Alaska  to  Patagonia  not  a  Hebrew  letter  has  been  found 
in  any  inscription. 

2.  The  Malay  Theory  is  that  a  great  Malay  Empire,  once 
existing  in  the  island  of  Malaysia,  planted  colcnies  here ;  but 
this  is  easily  disproved. 

3.  The   Phoanician   Theory :    that  those  ancient   navigators 
planted  colonies  in  America.      If  correct,  this  would  be  certain 
of  demonstration  ;  for   they    were   preeminently   a   people   of 
letters  and  monuments.     The  Phoenician  alphabet  is  the  parent 
of  all  the  alphabets  of  Europe  except  the  Turkish.     They  must 
have  left  some  trace  of  their   language.     But  none  has  been 
found.      Nor  can  any  similarity  be  traced  in  the  ruins  with  the 
works  of  the  Phoenicians. 

4.  5,  6.  The  Assyrian,  Egyptian  and  Roman  Theories  fell 
for  the  same  reasons  as  the  Phoenician.     The  works  of  none  of 
these  people  have  any  marked  resemblance  to  those  found  in 
America.     A   pyramid    or   temple   here   is    no    more    like  an 


600  WHY    AN    EXOTIC? 

Egyptian  or  Assyrian  one  than  a  Chinese  pagoda  is  like  an 
American  Church. 

7.  The  Northmen  in  America  have  been  credited  with  these 
works.     It  is  barely  possible  the  remains  in  the  United  States 
might  be  thus  accounted  for ;  but  how  about  the  far  more  extensive 
and  elaborate  works  in  Mexico,  Central  and  South  America? 
The  cause  ascribed  is  utterly  inadequate  for  the  effect. 

8.  The  Chinese  or  Tartary  Theory  is,  that  about  the  year  1 250 
Kublai  Khan  sent  Tartar  colonies  to  America  ;  that  among  them 
were  some  Nestorian  Christians,  which  accounts  for  the  crosses 
found.     The  time  is  utterly  inadequate.     Palenque  and  Copan 
were  built  and  abandoned  before  the  year  1250. 

9.  The  Atlantean  Theory  is,  by  far,  the  most  brilliant  and 
fascinating  of  all  proposed,  and  appeals  with  subtle  power  to  the 
imagination.    It  is  propounded  by  Brasseur  de  Bourbourg,  who 
maintains   that   the   Island   of  Atlantis,    often    mentioned    by 
ancient  poets,  had  a  real  existence ;  that  it  extended  nearly  across 
the  Atlantic,  and  was  the  cradle  of  civilization  ;  that  it  actually 
sank  in  the  sea  as  the  Greek  poets  tell  us,  and  that  the  West 
India   Islands  are  the  only  portions  that  remain  above  water. 
He  conjectures  that  from  this  common  center  civilization  spread 
east  and  west,  and  supports  this  view  by  numerous  traditions 
from  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic.     Of  this  theory  we  must  regret- 
fully say,  "  Not  proven." 

To  dispose  of  so  many  theories  to  make  way  for  my  own 
opinion,  is  scarcely  in  keeping  with  the  modesty  I  had  proposed 
to  myself;  but,  in  my  humble  judgment,  these  theorists  all  start 
from  one  fatal  assumption :  that  this  civilization  was  necessarily 
an  exotic.  Why  not  a  civilization  native  to  America  as  well  as 
to  any  other  country  ?  I  would  suggest  that  a  good  basis  might 
be  laid  by  analogy  with  the  course  of  civilization  in  Europe. 
There  it  began  in  the  South,  spread  slowly  by  successive  develop- 
ments towards  the  North,  where  it  was  overwhelmed  and  driven 
back,  as  it  were,  by  an  irruption  of  barbarians ;  it  again  revived 
in  the  South,  and  slowly  extended  to  the  North,  where  it  is  now 
advanced  beyond  the  original. 

Similarly  here  the  Colhuas  originated  civilization  in  the  South  ; 


A   NATIVE   CIVILIZATION.  601 

their  successors,  the  Toltecs,  carried  it  towards  the  North  ;  about 
the  line  of  Ohio,  they  encountered  the  irruption  of  northern 
barbarians,  and  slowly  retired  towards  the  South  ;  there  civiliza- 
tion again  revived,  and  was  steadily  advancing  towards  the 
North  when  the  Spaniards  came  and  destroyed  it.  On  each  conti- 
nent the  full  cycle  required  about  three  thousand  years. 

On  this  basis  I  should  place  the  Moquis  and  other  Pueblo 
races  the  last  in  a  series  of  four,  the  second  the  greatest,  and  a 
decline  thence  to  the  last:  Col huas,  Toltecs,  Aztecs,  Pueblos. 
In  summing  up,  why  are  we  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  adopt- 
ing any  hypothesis  of  an  Eastern  origin  ?  Is  it  unreasonable 
to  believe  that  self-improvement  began  among  savages  in 
America,  as  it  did  three  thousand  years  ago  among  savages  in 
Egypt  and  Greece?  Does  sound  philosophy  forbid  the  theory 
of  a  spontaneous  civilization  in  America?  We  are,  perhaps, 
too  much  in  the  habit  of  thinking  that  everything  really  good 
originated  with  our  branch  of  the  human  race.  To  my  mind, 
the  evidences  are  many — though  a  profound  American  archa3- 
ologist  might  smile  at  the  supposition — that  this  civilization 
was  sui  generis,  native  and  not  derived.  We  now  know  that  in 
China  a  civilization  developed  spontaneously,  totally  unlike  and 
receiving  no  aid  from  that  of  Europe.  Two  starting  points 
proved,  what  is  there  to  forbid  the  idea  of  a  third  ?  This  is  as 
distinct  from  the  European  as  is  the  Chinese;  it  shows  no 
signs  of  derivation,  and  facts  indicate  clearly  that  the  native 
mind  of  America  is  naturally  equal  to  either  of  the  others. 
Within  the  memory  of  man  a  Cherokee  has  invented  a  complete 
alphabet,  one  serving  the  purpose  in  his  language  better  than 
ours  does  in  the  English.  (Better  because  each  letter  represents 
invariably  one  and  the  same  sound.)  This  fact  is  worth  a  vol- 
ume of  conjecture.  It  shows  that  the  human  mind  was  slowly 
working  toward  something  better  in  America,  the  same  as  in 
Europe,  the  only  difference  being  that,  from  reasons  of  race  or 
climate,  it  there  got  an  earlier  start. 

And  as  to  the  Northern  barbarians  who  destroyed  this  civili- 
zation, why  are  we  driven  to  inventing  a  plausible  theory  as  to 
how  they  crossed  from  Asia?  The  account  of  a  literal  Garden 


602  CONCLUDING   THEORY. 

\ 

of  Eden,  and  one  only  pair  from  whom  all  the  two  thousand 
varieties  of  our  race  descended,  is  given  up  by  many  of  the 
most  learned  divines  of  the  age.  Nor  is  the  hypothesis  of  a 
confusion  of  tongues,  in  the  popular  sense,  borne  out  by  a  criti- 
cal reading  of  Genesis  ix. ;  and  the  structure  of  language  shows 
it  to  be  totally  unnecessary  to  account  for  the  present  variety  of 
tongues.  Every  one  of  them  would  have  existed  just  the  same, 
resulting  from  a  natural  principle  of  divergence,  if  Babel  had 
never  been.  On  the  whole,  then,  I  incline  to  flank  all  the  diffi- 
culties of  the  main  question  thus:  America,  as  shown  by 
geology,  is  the  oldest  of  the  continents,  and,  it  is  quite  reasona- 
ble, therefore,  to  suppose,  was  first  inhabited.  She  had  an  origi- 
nal population  of  her  own,  independent  of  Adam  and  Eve,  Noah, 
or  any  other  man.  This  race  had  a  native  genius  peculiarly  its 
own,  totally  unlike  that  which  developed  in  Asia  the  Chinese 
civilization,  or  that  in  Europe  which  created  that  of  the  Greek 
and  Roman  and  the  later  nations.  Like  them,  thousands  of 
years  passed  in  barbarism  before  even  a  start  was  apparent.  But 
civilization  did  begin  in  America,  and  was  reviving  from  its  first 
overthrow  when  the  whites  came.  In  seeking  to  engraft  on  it 
an  alien  civilization  they  destroyed  it.  Mexico  had  advanced 
through  the  savage  and  barbarous  to  the  half-civilized  state- 
the  New  England  tribes  had  taken  the  first  steps  toward  improve- 
ment, and  the  New  York  Indians  had  already  a  political  organi- 
zation, code  of  laws,  national  confederacy,  and  system  of  repre- 
sentative council  and  government.  Had  the  whites  discovered 
America  a  thousand  years  later,  they  might  have  found  on 
the  Atlantic  coast  a  completed  native  civilization,  as  perfect  as 
that  of  China  to-day,  or  more  so.  The  innate  power  of  the 
Indian  mind,  among  the  superior  tribes,  is  evident.  The  infe- 
rior ones  would  have  perished  as  did  inferior  aboriginal  races 
before  Asiatic  and  European  civilization.  As  I  disclaimed  in 
the  beginning  a  critical  acquaintance  with  American  archaeology, 
this  may  go  as  merely  my  theory  about  the  Pueblos.  If  the 
reader  don't  like  it,  he  is  quite  at  liberty  to  construct  one  of 
his  own. 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

ARIZONA. 

JL  big  country— A  strange  parallelogram —A  region  of  mountain,  canon  and 
plateau— Antiquities— Wild  Indians— Maricopas  and  other  village  Indians— 
We  leave  Moqui— Nature  of  the  country— Camp  of  the  "  Outlaw  Navajoes"- 
Romantic  narrations— Navajo  beauty— Their  theology— Fish,  turkeys,  and 
human  beings— Who  are  they  ? — Their  treatment  of  women. 

ISTANCES  are  deceitful  in  the  far  West ;  and,  as  the 
Eastern  reader  understands  them,  it  may  almost  be  said 
that  figures  will  lie.  For  when  I  say  that  I  journeyed 
eight  hundred  miles  in  nine  weeks,  through  New-Mexico 
and  Arizona,  the  reader  will  hastily  conclude  that  I  must 
have  seen  most  of  the  country  worth  seeing.  In  reality  I  saw  but 
a  very  small  part  of  it ;  for  the  two  Territories  together  are  five 
or  six  times  the  size  of  Ohio.  I  merely  saw  a  specimen  of  each 
division,  its  productions  and  inhabitants.  But  before  I  go 
^northward,  a  brief  sketch  of  Arizona  entire,  is  appropriate. 

This  Territory  and  the  western  half  of  New  Mexico  form  a 
singular  parallelogram,  with  an  area  about  five  times  that  of 
Indiana.  Size  is  the  only  point  of  comparison  with  our  State 
which  would  be  intelligible  to  the  Eastern  reader  :  all  the  pro- 
cesses of  nature,  as  well  as  the  productions  and  inhabitants,  seem 
to  be  on  a  totally  different  plan. 

This  parallelogram  is  bounded  on  the  east  by  the  Rio  Grande 
("Great  River"),  on  the  west  by  the  Colorado  ("Red-earth 
River"),  on  the  south  by  the  Gila  (Hee-lay\  and  on  the 
north  by  the  Colorado  and  San  Juan  ("St.  John").  The  whole 
square  lies  in  a  succession  of  plateaus  from  two  to  eight  thousand 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  Nearly  down  the  center — some 
fifty  miles  east  of  the  Arizona  boundary — runs  the  Sierra  Madre 

603 


604 


DESCRIPTIVE. 


BREAK    TN    THE    FORMATION.1* 


(" Mother  Range") 
Mountains ;  from 
their  summit,  eight 
thousand  feet  high, 
the  country  falls 
off  in  a  succession 
of  mesas  and  pla- 
teaus each  way, 
to  the  two  great 
rivers.  The  trav- 
eler proceeding 
westward  from  the 
Rio  Grande,  over 
an  almost  level 
mesa,  sees  rising 
before  him  a  range 
of  rocky  hills,  from 
a  hundred  to  a 
thousand  feet  high, 
and  naturally  looks 
for  a  descent  on  the 
western  side.  But 
reaching  the  sum- 
mit, he  again  finds 
the  level,  often  bar- 
ren mesa  spreading 
away  before  him, 
till  its  sandy  and 
glistening  surface 
fades  into  the  blue 
horizon.  Thus  the 
eastern  half  of  this 
region  might  be 
represented  as  a 
great  flattened  pyra- 
mid, the  successive 
"  benches"  stretch- 


TOPOGRAPHICAL.  605 

ing  away  from  ten  to  a  hundred  miles  in  width.  A  great  change 
appears  westward  of  the  summit.  There  the  high  plateaus  are 
broken  across  by  awful  chasms;  gorges  with  perpendicular  sides 
go  winding  tortuously  through  the  formation ;  all  the  streams 
run  in  great  cailons  from  two  to  five  thousand  feet  in  depth, 
with  bottoms  from  one  to  four  thousand  feet  above  the  level  of 
the  sea.  Here  and  there  the  barren  plateau  appears  to  drop 
suddenly  to  a  level  plain,  and  rocky  ranges  of  hills  enclose  an 
oval  valley,  walled  in  on  every  side  by  inaccessible  mountains, 
and  with  passes  out  only  up  or  down  the  beds  of  ancient  streams, 
long  since  dry.  It  is  the  oldest  country  on  earth,  except  per- 
haps the  "back  bone"  of  Central  Africa;  natural  convulsions 
have  slowly  heaved  it  far  above  the  region  of  abundant  rains  or 
snows,  and  the  great  Colorado,  with  its  affluents,  has  for  ages 
been  slowly  cutting  deeper  and  deeper  channels  in  the  sandstone 
formation,  tapping  the  sources  of  the  springs  at  lower  points,  and 
steadily  sucking  the  life  out  of  its  own  basin.  On  the  rocky 
hills  are  still  some  fine  forests ;  on  the  slopes  the  Indians  find 
abundant  bunch  grass  and  wild  sage  for  their  hardy  animals  ; 
and  at  rare  intervals,  a  hidden  valley  is  found,  low  enough  to 
have  a  growing  season  without  frost,  with  water  enough  for 
irrigation,  its  soil  the  volcanic  detritus  of  neighboring  hills,  and 
of  wonderful  fertility.  Perhaps  one-twentieth  of  the  entire  area 
is  fit  for  agriculture. 

Along  the  northern  portion  of  this  parallelogram  are  found 
strange  races  of  friendly  and  partially  civilized  Indians :  the 
Pueblos,  Zufiis,  Moquis,  Teguas,  Oraybes,  and  Navajoes. 
All  but  the  last  are  included  in  a  general  class  as  Pueblos, 
meaning  "  villagers."  They  plow  the  soil  with  forked  logs ; 
raise  corn  and  beans ;  manufacture  blankets  and  pottery,  and 
are  generally  simple,  civil  and  unwarlike.  Far  otherwise  is  it 
south  of  the  Little  Colorado  and  Ptierco.  There  the  San  Fran- 
cisco, White  and  Mogollon  Mountains  and  their  spurs  break  up 
the  country  into  a  thousand  hidden  valleys,  in  which  the  mur- 
derous Apaches  hide,  and  graze  their  stock ;  the  few  trails  go 
twisting  through  narrow  cafions,  in  which  at  most  unexpected 
places  the  savages  let  fly  upon  the  unwary  traveler  a  shower  of 


606  COST   OF   AN    APACHE. 

poisoned  arrows;  and  dreary  intervals  of  fifty  or  a  hundred 
miles  separate  the  few  water  holes,  which  are  hidden  in  rocky 
coverts  or  scrubby  .thickets,  where  the  Indians  keep  almost 
continual  ambush.  Hence  in  Arizona  the  white  population  is 
found  exclusively  along  the  Gila,  and  in  the  southwestern 
corner,  unless  we  include  a  few  Mormon  ranches  northwest  of 
the  Colorado.  The  whites  consist  of  four  thousand  Americans 
and  seven  thousand  Mexicans ;  and  this  small  number  average 
a  loss  of  ten  per  month  from  the  Apaches — about  half  the 
mortality  of  an  army  in  active  service.  The  entire  Apache 
race,  consisting  of  the  Final,  Mohave,  Coyotero,  Mescalero,  and 
White  Mountain  tribes,  does  not  exceed  seven  thousand  per- 
sons— perhaps  two  thousand  warriors.  These  warriors  cost  the 
Government  annually  a  thousand  dollars  apiece :  two  million 
dollars  a  year  for  the  army  in  Arizona,  to  protect  four  thousand 
Americans  against  two  thousand  Apaches.  It  is  a  costly  ex- 
periment, and  almost  a  total  failure.  There  are  a  few  tribes 
with  whom  the  present  policy  is  not  a  success.  Hence  I  turned 
northward  when  I  reached  the  border  of  the  Apache  country. 

It  is  my  firm  belief,  from  considerable  study  of  the  subject, 
that  the  American  Indians  are  capable  of  civilization,  if  a 
proper  course  were  adopted.  But  there  are  exceptional  branches 
among  them,  just  as  there  are  among  white,  black  or  brown 
races  :  certain  tribes  are  doomed  to  extinction,  and  chief  among 
these  are  the  Apaches.  The  build  of  their  heads  forbids  all 
idea  of  quiet  industry;  the  conception  of  civilization  could  not 
be  fired  into  their  skulls.  Every  Apache  is  a  born  robber  and 
murderer.  Extermination,  whether  in  war  or  under  the  form 
of  reservations  and  legal  justice,  is  their  certain  fate ;  and  the 
quickest  way  is,  perhaps,  the  most  merciful. 

It  is  directly  the  opposite  with  the  Navajoes.  They  acquired 
considerable  civilization  before  they  met  the  whites;  they  will 
work  readily  at  any  productive  employment,  and  learn  the  use 
of  tools  very  readily.  There  is  as  great  a  difference  between 
a  Navajo  and  an  Apache  skull  as  between  that  of  a  Saxon  and 
a  Malay.  I  took  occasion  to  examine  several  of  both  tribes 
when  our  party  got  down  to  the  old  hunting-ground,  where 


INDIAN    DEPREDATIONS. 


607 


several  battles  had  been  fought,  and  where  I  saw  probably  fifty 
skulls,  both  Apache  and  Navajo.  The  latter  are  high  and 
round  enough  to  show  considerable  development  in  the  moral 
qualities,  and  the  capacity  to  keep  treaties. 

Mangus,  an  old  Apache  chief  who  used  to  raid  on  the  Jor- 
nada del  Muerto  and  stage  road  south  of  Santa  Fe,  it  is  said, 
once  made  a  promise  to  a  stage  driver  who  had  saved  his  life, 
and  kept  his  word.  But  it  is  the  only  case  I  ever  heard  of. 
His  skull,  showing  the  hole  where  a  rifle  ball  entered  his 
brain,  is  now  in  the  possession  of  Professor  O.  S.  Fowler,  who 
kindly  allowed  meadrawing 
of  it.  From  the  shape  I 
suspect  he  was  not  a  real 
Apache,  but  a  runaway  from 
some  superior  tribe. 

Of  the  southwestern  part 
of  the  Territory  a  reliable 
acquaintance  writes,  dating 
at  Prescott,  the  capital : 

"  There  is  plenty  of  good 
farming  land  on  all  the 
streams  here,  and  some  very 
large  arable  valleys.  Much 
of  this  part  of  Arizona  is 
a  fine  grazing  country,  and 
would  be  covered  with  herds 
if  the  Indians  were  out  of 
the  country. 

"  I  certainly  believe  I  am  within  bounds,  when  I  say  that  the 
Indians  steal  one-fourth  of  the  live  stock  every  year.  They 
take  more  horses  and  mules  than  other  stock,  and  in  some  dis- 
tricts steal  at  least  one-half  of  these  every  year  !  People  expect 
forays,  and  have  philosophically  determined  to  take  the  chances. 
Since  I  have  been  here  (two  and  a  half  years),  herds  of  cows 
have  been  driven  off  by  Indians,  from  within  one  mile  of  this 
town,  three  times;  the  herders  killed  at  one  time,  and  at  the 
other  desperately  wounded.  These  outrages  occurred  within 


A  FRIENDLY   APACHE. 


608 


PRODUCE. 


SKULL    OF   MANGUS    COLORADO,    OR    "  RED   SLEEVE." 
A   "GOOD  INDIAN." 

one  mile  of  Fort  Whipple,  military  headquarters  of  the  Terri- 
tory. You  may  imagine  that  people  do  not  keep  very  fine 
stock,  to  have  them  take  their  chances,  and  be  run  off  at  every 
incursion  by  the  red  devils ;  but,  unfortunately,  they  do.  There 
are  not  many  teams  kept  for  driving,  the  people  mostly  travel- 
ing on  horseback.  The  freighting  is  done  by  mule  teams, 
though  ox  teams  are  extensively  employed.  All  the  groceries, 
dry  goods,  farming  and  mining  tools,  machinery,  etc.,  have  to 
be  hauled  by  teams  an  average  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles. 
Then  there  is  all  the  hay  and  grain  for  the  various  military 
posts  to  be  delivered ;  so  you  see  that  freighting  is  an  important 
industry  here,  and  is  attended  with  great  risk. 

"The  average  cost  of  delivering  merchandise,  from  California 
to  the  points  where  it  is  consumed,  is  about  ten  cents  per  pound, 
which  makes  living  here  rather  expensive,  though  we  have 
always  plenty  to  eat.  The  country  lacks  one  thing,  that  is, 
fresh  fish.  There  are  no  good  fish  in  this  country ;  game  is 
plenty;  so  is  butter  in  the  summer,  at  $1.25  per  pound,  and 
eggs  at  $1  per  doz. ;  potatoes  average  about  8  cents  per  pound  ; 
corn  and  barley  about  7  cents;  oats  we  have  none;  but  we  get 
enough  to  eat,  and  are  contented  enough  under  the  circum- 


FARMING   AND    MINING   PROSPECTS.  609 

stances,  and  if  the  Indians  would  only  let  us  alone,  we  would 
do  well  enough.  We  are  living  in  hopes  that  a  railroad  will 
soon  be  built  through  the  Territory,  which  will  clear  out  the 
Indians,  while  nothing  else  will.  The  country  has  plenty  of 
rich  mines,  but  no  mines  in  the  world  can  be  worked  and  pay 
the  prices  we  now  have  to  pay  for  everything  we  use,  not  in- 
cluding the  losses  to  be  sustained  from  Indian  depredations. 
Now  it  takes  two  men  to  do  one  man's  work :  one  to  watch  for 
Indians  while  the  other  works.  One  day  last  week  the  Indians 
drove  off  every  hoof  of  stock  from  a  mining  camp  thirty  miles 
south  of  here.  This  is  no  unusual  occurrence;  on  the  other 
hand,  it  has  become  so  common  that  it  is  forgotten  in  a  day. 
A  railroad  will  change  all  this;  for  with  it  comes  cheap  trans- 
portation and  plenty  of  men  to  work  the  rich  mines  of  the 
country. 

"  There  is  no  doubt  but  the  Thirty-fifth  parallel  railroad  is 
one  of  the  best  routes  across  the  Continent.  It  passes  through  the 
richest  portion  of  the  country,  on  a  route  easily  built,  and  one 
that  will  have  no  snow  to  interfere  with  its  travel  in  the  worst 
winter.  It  passes  through  a  country  well  timbered,  a  fine 
grazing  country,  and  the  richest  mining  country  on  the  con- 
tinent, which,  without  the  railroad,  is  of  but  little  value. 

"One-half  of  the  Territory  is  an  unknown  land.  Every  year 
parties  make  trips  into  the  Indian  country,  and  never  fail  to 
find  good  farming  and  mining  prospects,  though  they  can  never 
give  the  country  a  thorough  exploration,  as  the  red-skins  are 
always  after  them.  There  is  a  strip  of  country  100  miles  wide 
and  200  miles  long  here,  known  to  abound  in  minerals  of  every 
kind  ;  but  the  white  man  can  not  get  into  it  to  do  anything  until 
the  Indians  are  disposed  of.  This  is  what  we  are  all  waiting 
for,  and  for  this  I  am  going  to  stay  ;  and  if  the  Indians  don't 
last  longer  than  I  do,  I  expect  yet  to  have  something  out  of  the 
country. 

"  Crops  have  been  short,  almost  a  failure,  except  when  they 
had  water  for  irrigation.     There  is  plenty  of  land  here  that  has 
water  for  irrigation,  but  most  of  it  lies  in  localities  that  cannot 
be  used  on  account  of  Indians. 
39 


610 


CROPS. 


FORMATION  ON  THE  STREAMS. 

*'  The  whole  country  shows  ruins  left  by  a  people  who  once 
inhabited,  but  have  ages  ago  deserted  it,  and  left  no  clue  of  who 
they  were  or  where  they  went.  An  agricultural  people,  no 
doubt  they  were,  for  you  can  see  traces  of  their -irrigating  ditches 
wherever  you  go,  and  in  places  large  canals  undoubtedly  used 
for  irrigating  purposes  on  an  extensive  scale.  It  is  evident  that 
they,  like  the  present  white  population,  had  a  hostile  people  to 
contend  with. 

"In  the  higher  parts  of  the  country  they  can  raise  anything 
that  grows  in  New  York  ;  and  in  the  southern  or  lower  parts, 
on  Salt  River,  and  on  the  Gila  River,  oranges  and  other  tropical 
fruits  are  grown  in  profusion.  On  the  river  lands  they  can 
obtain  plenty  of  water  for  irrigation,  and  can  raise  two  crops  of 
grain  in  the  year.  F.  C.  A." 

I  have  erased  from  the  foregoing  all  that  treated  specifically 
of  the  Indians.  Still,  occasional  references  to  them  will  be  seen. 


ARIZONA   RIVERS.  611 

The  average   Arizonian  mind  will   effervesce  on   the  Apache 
question. 

On  the  map,  Arizona  appears  to  have  abundance  of  water ; 
and,  on  general  principles,  it  would  seem  that  a  Territory  with 
water  frontage  of  six  hundred  miles  on  as  large  a  river  as  the 
Colorado,  and  crossed  by  two  rivers  each  five  hundred  miles 
long,  would  have  fine  facilities  for  commerce.  Quite  the  reverse 
is  the  fact,  "  For  thirty  miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  Colorado 
Elver  the  spring  tides  rise  twenty-five  or  thirty  feet,  and  are 
preceded  by  breakers  six  feet  high,  rushing  up  stream  with  ter- 
rific velocity,  and  endangering  small  crafts  and  even  large  ves- 
sels if  insecurely  moored.  The  channel  is  very  crooked,  with 
an  average  depth  of  eight  feet  in  low  water,  with  occasional 
bars  that  have  only  three  feet.  The  ordinary  tides  rise  ten  feet, 
and  the  river  is  ten  feet  deeper  during  the  July  freshet  (supplied 
by  the  melting  snows)  than  in  November.  The  current  has  an 
average  speed  of  two  and  a  half  miles  per  hour  in  low  water  and 
five  miles  in  high  water.  There  are  snags  and  shifting  banks 
of  sand,  but  few  rocks  for  three  hundred  miles  from  the  mouth 
of  the  river;  then  we  come  to  one  hundred  miles  of  the  best 
part  of  the  river  for  navigation,  where  bars  of  gravel  are  fre- 
quent; then  there  are  fifty  miles  of  stony  bed,  with  frequent 
rapids ;  and  beyond  the  rapids  we  come  to  the  celebrated  Colo- 
rado Canon,  the  rocky  walls  of  which  rise  steeply  in  some  places 
almost  perpendicularly  to  a  hight  of  four  or  five  thousand  feet. 
The  river-bed  in  the  canon  has  a  rapid  descent  and  many  large 
rocks,  so  that  navigation  is  very  difficult  and  dangerous.  The 
explorers  of  the  caflon  have  found  places  where,  by  looking  up 
through  narrow  tributary  gullies,  they  could  see  the  stars  at 
midday,  so  little  of  the  sky  was  in  sight,  and  so  dark  was  the 
spot  where  they  stood.  The  elevation  of  the  river  four  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  from  its  mouth  is  eight  hundred  feet  above  the 
sea,  showing  an  average  descent  of  two  feet  per  mile." 

Along  the  Gila  are  various  tribes  of  peculiar  and  interesting 
half-civilized  Indians:  the  Pimas,  Maricopas  and  Papagoes. 
They  cultivate  the  ground  with  some  skill,  and  in  that  fertile 
soil  and  warm  climate  produce  immense  crops  of  wheat,  pump- 


612 


APACHES   DIMINISHING   IN   NUMBERS. 


SCENE  ON  THE    COLORADO. 


kins  and  melons.  They  are  also  well  supplied  with  horses  and 
cattle.  They  have  always  been  friendly  to  the  whites,  and  until 
a  few  years  past  took  pleasure  in  feeding  and  assisting  travelers. 
But  now  they  are  reserved  and  uncommunicative,  saying  that 
the  whites  are  trying  to  get  their  land,  their  women,  and  to 
divert  the  water  they  need  for  irrigation.  They,  too,  are  exposed 
to  Apache  raids. 

"All  the  other  Indians  are  utterly  savage,  and  rapidly 
decreasing  by  violence,  disease  and  intoxicating  liquors.  Among 
the  Yavapais  there  are  four  natural  deaths  to  one  birth.  The 
Mohaves  lose  one-tenth  their  number  yearly  by  venereal  dis- 
eases alone.  Fifty  years  agro  the  Apaches  numbered  thirty 
thousand.  Two  thousand  warriors  could  readily  be  collected 
for  a  single  raid  into  Mexico.  Now  six  or  seven  thousand  is 
the  highest  number  assigned  them.  Arizona  need  not  com- 
plain of  them  long." 


"JOHN."  613 

"  The  Coyotero  Apaches  have  few  horses,  and  are  very  poor. 
The  Pinalefio  Apaches  are  the  most  formidable  tribe,  having 
more  courage,  cunning,  and  animosity  against  the  white  men 
than  any  of  the  others.  The  Tontos  are  hostile  and  murderous, 
but  cowardly.  The  Wallapais,  the  Yavapais,  and  the  Coy- 
oteros  are  divided  up  into  little  cliques,  some  of  which  want 
peace  and  others  do  not.  Among  the  Arizona  Indians  there  is 
no  strong  tribal  organization,  and  no  men  of  much  influence. 
The  hostile  parties  are  often  made  up,  not  from  any  one  clique 
or  small  settlement,  nor  do  the  members  join  at  the  command 
of  a  chief;  but  some  ambitious  leader  sends  word  that  he  will 
start  on  a  raid,  and  invites  the  braves  of  the  vicinity  to  join. 
It  is,  therefore,  utterly  impossible  to  govern  the  tribes  through 
the  chiefs  in  the  manner  practised  east  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains." 

So  much  for  Arizona  at  large,  I  resume  the  course  of  my 
own  journey.  The  last  day  of  my  stay  at  Moqui,  Navajoes 
were  arriving  and  departing  in  considerable  numbers,  some  to 
trade  at  other  Moqui  towns,  and  others  to  go  on  the  trip  west- 
ward to  the  Colorado.  Among  them  were  the  father  and 
sister  of  my  new  guide,  the  former  en  route  to  Utah,  and  the 
latter  merely  on  a  friendly  visit  to  the  Moquis.  My  guide 
arrived  on  the  23d,  and  presented  his  nelsoass,  which  read  as 
follows : 

"  To  all  whom  it  may  concern  : 

"  The  bearer,  a  Navajo  Indian,  with  his  father,  have  permission  to  accompany 
J.  H.  Beadle,  Esq.,  to  the  Mormon  settlements.  They  are  good  Indians,  and  I 
trust  any  one  who  meets  them  will  treat  them  kindly. 

THOMAS  V.  KEAMS, 

Clerk  Navajo  Agency, 
June  21,  1872.  Acting  Agent." 

For  convenience'  sake  I  christened  him  John,  the  universal 
title  for  Indians  and  Chinese. 

And  here  I  must  record  a  marvel  of  aboriginal  mail  service. 
My  spare  time  at  Moqui  I  had  employed  in  writing,  and  when 
my  first  Navajo  started  back  to  Defiance  I  delivered  him  an 
immense  envelope  full  of  MSS.,  directed  to  the  Commercial, 


614  MAIL   SERVICE. 

with  instructions  to  deliver  it  to  Mr.  Keams  at  Defiance. 
From  there  an  Indian  is  sent  once  a  fortnight  or  oftener  down 
to  Wingate,  and  thence  a  military  express  runs  once  a  week  to 
Santa  Fe.  My  letters  went  through  all  those  changes,  and  the 
material  I  delivered  to  John  on  the  24th  of  June  was  published 
in  the  Cincinnati  Commercial  on  the  13th  of  July! 

Mem.  to  Senator  Ramsey :  Send  for  some  Navajoes  to  take 
charge  of  the  mails  in  Utah,  and  on  the  Union  Pacific,  where 
I  once  lost  seventeen  letters  in  three  months. 

A  heated  discussion  ensued  in  regard  to  the  route.  All 
were  agreed  that  the  usual  route,  straight  westward  vid  the 
Oraybe  village,  would  not  do  now,  as  the  unusual  drought  had 
dried  up  most  of  the  pools;  and  the  others  were  in  favor  of  a 
more  southern  route,  requiring  two  more  days,  but  with  abun- 
dance of  water.  John,  however,  decided  on  a  more  northern 
route;  and  the  result  was  he  and  I  started  alone,  with  the 
understanding  that  we  were  to  meet  with  others  on  the  way. 
The  flowered  calico  I  had  taken  to  pay  expenses  at  Moqui  was 
exhausted,  as  the  people  had  been  extremely  kind  in  furnishing 
me  milk,  and  carrying  in  blankets  full  of  grass  for  my  horses; 
so  I  had  nothing  for  a  parting  present  to  Chino  but  my  sole 
remaining  linen  shirt — no  use  to  me  in  this  country.  He  gave 
me  in  return  a  most  affectionate  parting  hug,  and  a  large  roll 
of  mescal.  This  plant  (more  properly  maguey)  is  only  occa- 
sionally used  by  the  Moquis,  but  forms  half  the  living  of  the 
Apaches,  as  it  comes  to  better  perfection  down  in  their  country. 
In  its  green  state  it  is  the  size  of  a  large  cabbage,  but  a  little 
more  compact,  the  leaves  resembling  those  of  a  young  raullen 
plant.  Stripping  these  off,  the  fruit  inside  appears  in  shape 
much  like  a  pine-apple,  but  not  quite  so  large.  It  is  crushed 
into  cakes  and  dried,  when  it  appears  of  a  rich  brown  color, 
looking  and  tasting  very  much  like  a  mass  of  dried  peaches — 
or,  rather,  like  those  sugar-soaked  canes  we  sometimes  find  in 
Orleans  sugar.  I  like  the  taste  of  it  very  much,  but  on  the 
road  it  seemed  to  produce  too  much  thirst  for  comfort,  unless 
we  are  nearing  water.  It  is  slightly  cathartic  in  tendency,  and 
is  a  very  good  change  with  dry  bread  and  bacon. 


"  DRY   CAMP."  615 

^s</ 

All  set  and  oif  on  the  morning  of  the  25th,  after  the  warm 
embrace — Moqui  good-bye — from  Chino  and  the  interpreters. 
From  the  north  end  of  the  mesa,  we  traveled  about  north- 
northwest  nearly  all  day,  through  a  country  which  did  not 
seem  so  complete  a  desert  as  most  of  that  east  of  Moqui.  After 
leaving  the  immediate  rim  inclosing  the  villages,  our  route  was 
over  a  surface  either  level  or  only  gently  rolling;  good  bunch- 
grass  abounded  everywhere,  and  on  the  ridges  were  considerable 
thickets  of  scrubby  pine.  Occasionally  we  would  descend  to  a 
lower  flood  plain,  with  every  evidence  of  great  natural  fertility, 
but  from  want  of  water  perfectly  barren,  or  only  scantily 
furnished  \\Hth  bunch-grass. 

A  heavy  rain — a  rare  thing — had  fallen  the  previous  night, 
and  we  found  water  enough  for  our  noon  rest  in  the  hollowed 
surface  of  a  rock.  A  considerable  ridge  continued  a  few  miles 
west  of  us  all  day.  By  expressive  pantomime — this  guide,  I 
was  sorry  to  observe,  knew  no  Spanish — John  informed  me 
that  west  of  that  ridge  is  a  desert  with  neither  grass  nor  water, 
which  my  horse  could  not  cross  from  sunrise  to  sunrise ;  but 
that  we  would  go  around  the  north  end  of  it,  and  along  a  good 
road.  About  4  P.  M.  we  came  upon  horse  tracks  leading  west- 
ward, at  which  John  was  much  excited,  declaring  them  to  be 
of  Navajo  stock.  Here  we  turn  toward  the  point  of  the  ridge, 
and  at  the  foot  find  a  pool  with  water  enough  for  our  horses, 
and  to  fill  our  jugs,  as  we  must  make  a  "dry  camp"  to-night. 
Navajo  and  Moqui  jugs  are  made  of  close  wicker  work,  coated 
within  and  without  with  some  gummy  substance;  they  are 
very  light  and  convenient  for  transportation,  but  give  the 
water  in  the  lapse  of  a  few  hours  an  unpleasant  taste  like  tar 
water. 

An  hour  consumed  in  reaching  the  summit,  though  it  does 
not  appear  more  than  a  thousand  feet  high,  we  rode  a  few  rods 
westward  to  a  singular  peak  of  conglomerate  rock,  and  came 
out  of  the  pines  upon  a  splendid  prospect.  The  cliff  we  are  on 
slopes  gently  for  some  hundred  yards,  then  breaks  square  off 
in  a  rugged  precipice  of  a  thousand  feet  to  a  plain  below,  which 
stretches  north  and  west  as  far  as  I  can  see.  But  to  the  north 


616 


PEAK    OF   CONGLOMERATE. 


a  dim,  blue  range  appears,  and  this  side  of  it  a  darker  depres- 
sion with  overhanging  mist,  which  may  be  due  to  the  great 
distance  or  the  presence  of  water.  John  indicates  that  there  is 
a  great  cliff  there,  three  times  as  high  as  the  one  before  us,  at 
the  bottom  of  which  there  is  much  water  running  very  fast, 
and  deeper  than  over  my  head  three  times ;  but  it  is  as  far  as 
we  could  travel  from  sun-up  till  the  middle  of  the  afternoon, 
and  horses  could  not  get  up  or  down  there  for  two  days'  travel 

in  the  direction  from 
the  Navajoes*  home 
toward  the  Mwmoney 
hogande  ("  Mormon 
settlements ").  Of 
course  this  is  the 
Colorado  River,  but 
I  had  not  supposed 
we  were  so  near  it. 

We  skirted  the  pre- 
cipice before  us  till 
we  found  a  crevice 
and  sort  of  rocky 
stairway,  by  which 
we  got  down  to  the 
plain,  and  thence 
traveled  nearly 
straight  west  till 
dark,  camping  on  a 
ridge  with  abundant 
PEAK  OF  CONGLOMERATE.  grass,  but  no  water. 

After    supper    John 

made  a  large  bonfire  to  signal  the  other  Navajoes,  but  we  received 
no  answer.  We  were  off  by  moonlight  this  morning,  John  being 
all  impatience  to  overtake  the  other  party,  and  in  three  hours 
reached  them,  but  they  proved  to  be  part  of  a  band  of  five  fam- 
ilies who  had  moved  to  a  valley  there.  Here  we  find  the  only 
living  spring  and  running  stream  on  our  route.  The  valley  is 
bounded  on  the  south  by  an  abrupt  cliff,  not  more  than  six 


FINE  STOCK.  617 

hundred  feet  high,  and  on  the  north  by  gently  sloping  hills, 
rich  in  grass.  This  band  are  the  wealthiest  Navajoes  I  have 
yet  seen,  the  five  families  having  over  a  thousand  sheep  and 
goats,  and  at  least  two  hundred  horses.  Men  and  women  have 
each  a  good  riding  horse,  rather  elegantly  caparisoned,  with 
stylish  bridles  and  spurs,  and  in  their  camp  equipage  I  notice 
many  handsome  vessels  and  copper  kettles.  That  they  are  of 
the  aristocracy  is  further  proved  by  the  fact  that  they  did  not 
loaf  about  our  camp  or  ask  for  anything ;  but  received  our  ad- 
vances with  civil  dignity,  and  sold  us  half  a  gallon  of  milk  for 
fifty  cents,  like  so  many  Christians. 

All  their  stock  is  in  fine  condition,  and  the  place  evidently 
affords  rich  pasturage.  They  were  just  bringing  the  stock  to 
water,  presenting  a  fine  sight;  the  horses  galloping  down  the 
cliff,  the  Indian  boys  after  them  on  slopes  where  an  American 
would  not  venture  his  horse  in  a  walk,  and  the  sheep  and  goats 
filling  the  vale  with  their  bleatings,  presented  a  scene  to  have 
delighted  a  pastoral  poet.  Their  band  contained  several  Amer- 
ican horses  of  superior  breed,  of  which  two  excited  my  particular 
admiration  :  one  was  a  powerful,  heavy-limbed,  dark  bay  mare; 
the  other  a  bright  chestnut  stallion,  rather  light-limbed  and 
swift,  who  galloped  around  our  horses  a  few  times  in  provok- 
ingly  showy  style,  his  sleek  coat  glistening  as  if  just  from  under 
the  hands  of  a  skilful  groom.  The  pair  would  have  run  up 
toward  a  thousand  dollars  in  Ohio.  To  my  inquiry  as  to  where 
he  got  them,  the  chief  said  he  did  not  know — an  evasion,  of 
course ;  but  in  a  moment  stated  that  he  bought  them  of  the 
Mormoneys — a  lie,  I  strongly  suspected.  No  matter,  however, 
if  he  did  steal  them  ;  the  owner  will  never  get  near  enough  to 
prove  property,  in  this  country. 

We  concluded  to  remain  here  the  rest  of  the  day,  and  recruit 
our  animals  before  entering  upon  the  worst  stage  of  our  journey. 
Besides  the  milk  I  purchased,  John  got  a  piece  of  smoked  an- 
telope meat,  and  we  had  quite  a  breakfast  feast,  after  which  the 
Chief  and  family  came  and  took  a  cup  of  coffee,  the  only  thing 
I  could  spare.  He  was  fluent  in  signs  and  Navajo,  continually 
repeating  till  he  was  certain  I  understood.  He  exhibited  a 


618  THE   INTERPRETER. 

German-silver  dipper,  and  stated  that  many,  many  years  ago, 
when  he  was  too  young  to  wear  clothes,  three  white  men  came 
from  the  north  and  hunted  here  for  gold.  They  went  south, 
and  one  was  shot  by  the  Apaches;  the  others  brought  him  back 
and  he  died  here.  The  others  then  traded  everything  they  had 
for  horses  and  provisions,  and  his  father  gave  a  horse  and 
blanket  full  oif  corn  for  that  dipper,  which  they  had  had  ever 
since.  The  white  men  returned  toward  the  Colorado.  -But 
long  before  he  got  to  the  end  of  this  story  we  "stuck"  com- 
pletely, when  he  went  toward  the  cliff  and  shouted  for  " Espa- 
nol!" 

A  bright  lad  of  some  twenty  years  came  down  and  addressed 
me  in  first-rate  Spanish,  acting  thereafter  as  interpreter.  He 
informed  me  he  was  captured  in  the  beginning  of  the  last  war, 
and  lived  with  the  Mexicans  six  years,  whence  his  Indian  name, 
"  The  Spaniard ;"  that  he  had  driven  teams  to  Denver  and  been 
on  the  railroad  from  there  to  Cheyenne,  and  consequently  knew 
all  about  the  Americans  and  their  ways.  The  chief  then  struck 
in.  It  was  three  days  to  the  Mormoney  Jiogande,  the  first  one 
where  we  would  cross  the  river;  his  horse  could  go  it  in  two, 
but  mine  could  not,  for  his  feet  would  not  stand  the  stones ;  his 
horse  was  better  than  my  horse,  and  he  could  travel  better  than 
I ;  there  was  sand  all  the  way  to  Mormoney,  no  more  springs 
and  only  water  holes  in  the  rock.  In  answer  to  my  questions 
about  the  country,  he  drew  a  rude  map  in  the  sand  with  a  sharp 
stick,  and  pointed  out  that  it  was  nearly  a  day  north  for  my 
horse  to  the  big  water,  and  two  days  south  to  the  little  water ; 
that  four  days  west  they  came  together  so  (joining  his  fingers  in 
the  form  of  a  V),  and  that  three  days  northwest  of  that  place 
was  a  great  Mormoney  casa,  and  that  they  were  people  like  me, 
with,  plenty  to  eat  and  many  horses. 

One  fact  he  gave  rather  puzzled  me,  though  he  insisted  on  its 
truth.  He  said  that  straight  north  was  a  Mormon  Doctor,  who 
had  come  and  fixed  his  leg  here  (showing  a  frightful  scar), 
where  the  chestnut  stallion  kicked  him ;  that  he  could  walk  to 
this  doctor's  in  a  day,  but  it  would  take  my  horse  one  day  and 
till  the  sun  was  so  high — about  10  o'clock — as  there  was  a  place 


THIEVING    NAVAJOES.  619 

in  the  rock  be  could  climb  down,  and  my  borse  would  have  to 
go  far  around.  Like  the  Moquis  he  inquired  particularly  if  the 
Mormoneys  were  Americans,  and  said  that  some  of  the  Indians 
had  made  war  on  them  after  they  were  at  peace  with  the  latter. 
I  endeavored  to  explain,  as  I  had  to  Chino  and  Misiamtewah, 
the  difference  between  native  and  naturalized  citizens;  but  did 
not  succeed ;  making  them  comprehend,  however,  that  the  Mor- 
mons were  Americans. 

As  we  gather  up  in  the  evening  ready  to  start  early,  I  find 
my  Navajo  whip  and  knife  sheath — among  the  curiosities  I  had 
purchased — missing.  I  had  not  supposed  that  John  knew  any 
English,  but  when  I  pointed  out  the  loss,  his  face  grew  dark 
and  he  muttered,  "  Damn  Navajo,  shteal  mooch,"  and  darted 
for  a  boy  some  fifty  yards  away,  whom  he  dragged  into  camp. 
A  violent  discussion  ensued  till  the  boy,  with  John's  grip  tight- 
ening on  him,  pointed  to  the  cliff  and  muttered  "Espafiol." 
"Damn  Espanol,  shteal/'  said  the  guide,  and  ran  up  the  cliff, 
where  I  heard  another  violent  altercation,  Navajo  words  ming- 
ling amusingly  with  English  and  Spanish  oaths,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  John  returned  waving  the  whip  and  sheath  in  triumph. 

The  Navajoes  will  steal,  but  if  you  hire  one  he  will  guard 
your  property  against  all  the  rest,  in  which  respect  they  are 
better  than  any  other  Indians.  As  I  made  ready  for  early 
sleep,  Espanol  and  other  lads  came  down  on  a  visit,  and  sat 
about  the  fire  smoking  our  tobacco  and  talking  as  socially  with 
John  as  if  nothing  unusual  had  happened. 

From  what  I  learned  of  them  on  arrival  in  Utah,  I  judge 
these  were  of  the  "  Outlaw  Navajoes,"  a  portion  of  the  tribe 
numbering  a  thousand  or  more  who  do  not  agree  to  the  treaty, 
or  recognize  the  Agency  party.  They  are  quite  friendly  with 
the  whites,  but  have  made  one  raid  into  Utah  since  the  peace; 
and  at  John  D.  Lee's  I  learned  that  the  chestnut  stallion  which 
so  excited  my  admiration  had  been  stolen  from  him.  Two 
hundred  years  of  war  with  the  Spaniards  was  surely  enough  to 
confuse  a  people's  moral  perceptions,  and  cause  them  to  con- 
sider " levying  tribute"  on  the  whites  as  a  perfectly  legitimate 
operation. 


620  THE 

This  was  the  last  settlement  of  theirs  I  visited,  though  they 
range  down  to  the  junction  of  the  two  Coloradoes ;  and  in  the 
evening  they  made  our  camp  merry  with  their  lively  conversa- 
tion. Those  who  see  the  Indian  only  on  the  border  know 
nothing  of  his  real  character ;  for  it  is  only  the  lowest  and  mean- 
est of  the  race  that  hang  about  the  white  settlements.  And 
their  consciousness  of  oddity  in  appearance  makes  them  feel 
and  look  meaner.  One  needs  to  go  far  into  the  interior,  where 
they  are  "the  style"  and  he  the  oddity;  then  their  feeling  of 
superiority  gives  them  an  air  that  is  very  near  lordly.  What 
it  might  be  among  the  lower  and  more  squalid  tribes,  I  know 
not;  but  a  summer's  ramble  with  the  Navajoes  would  be  a  de- 
lightful novelty  to  me. 

They  have  excited  the  curiosity  of  all  intelligent  men  who 
have  seen  them :  Governor  Arny,  of  Santa  Fe,  thought  they 
might  be  the  result  of  a  Japanese  colony  mingled  with  the 
aborigines;  Major  Powell  considers  them  pure  Indians,  a  branch 
of  the  great  Shoshones  race ;  Sequoyah,  or  George  Guest,  who 
invented  the  Cherokee  alphabet,  thought  they  were  a  branch  of 
that  tribe,  and  lastly  a  New  Englander  who  visited  them  with 
Kit  Carson  in  1843,  writes  thus : 

"  The  Navajoes  are  a  remnant  of  the  ancient  Mexicans  who 

have  never  submitted  to  their  Spanish  conquerors 

They  reject  all  offers  of  amity  with  the  present  Mexicans,  with 
whom  they  have  fought  for  a  hundred  years,  though  very 
friendly  with  Americans.  The  men  are  tall,  lithe  and  active  ; 
the  women  very  handsomely  formed,  with  bright,  mobile  and 
most  pleasing  features." 

The  last  part  I  can  emphatically  indorse.  For  the  first  time 
in  my  travels  I  found  the  "  noble  red  man"  and  the  "beautiful 
Indian  maiden,"  whom  I  had  supposed  to  be  creatures  of  ro- 
mance, among  the  Navajoes.  In  the  slang  of  the  mountains, 
the  Navajoes  are  "  my  pet  Injuns,"  the  only  branch  of  the  race 
I  could  ever  feel  any  friendship  for.  When  we  reached  the 
Colorado,  the  old  man  of  our  party  spent  many  hours  in  teach- 
ing me  their  history  and  theology.  There  are  twenty-one  bands 
in  the  tribe,  each  with  some  peculiarities  of  belief,  but  the  gen- 
eral ideas  are  these : 


NAVAJO   TRADITIONS. 


621 


There  is  one  Great  Spirit ;  under  Him  each  people  has  its 
own  god.  The  god  of  the  Meccanoes  is  very  good  to  them  ;  but 
he  will  not  pay  any  attention  to  the  Navajoes.  Why  should 
he  ?  The  coyote  will  not  take  up  the  young  of  the  rattlesnake ; 
the  eagle  will  not  give  his  meat  to  the  children  of  the  hawk. 
It  is  light,  it  is  nature.  Each  cares  for  his  own.  The  Meli- 
canoes  are  great.  They  have  corn,  and  horses,  and  blankets, 
much  chinneahgo  nah  toh  ("  bread  and  tobacco  ").  Their  god  is 
very  good  to  them. 

Whilohay  (a  female 
deity)  made  the  Navajoes 
in  the  San  Juan  Valley  ; 
gave  them,  also,  these 
mountains,  and  told  them 
if  they  tried  to  live  any- 
where else  they  would  all 
die.  But  one  night, 
Chin-day  ("  the  Devil ") 
dammed  up  the  San  Juan 
and  drowned  everything. 
Besides  the  fish,  only  two 
creatures  escaped:  the 
snake  swam  ashore  and 
the  turkey  flew  up  to  a 
peak  in  Colorado.  The 
goddess  made  the  turkey 
into  another  man,  and 
made  a  woman  from  a 
fish,  and  from  these  two 

are  descended  all  the  present  Navajoes.  However,  this  may  be 
only  an  allegorical  statement  of  the  general  masculine  belief 
that  the  sex  divine  are  inclined  to  be  slippery  and  hard  to  catch 
Women  after  death  change  to  fish  for  awhile;  after  that  theii 
destiny  seems  unsettled.  Because  of  this,  Navajoes  eat  neither 
fish  nor  turkeys.  The  snake  is  the  only  animal  that  knows 
anything  about  what  took  place  in  the  first  creation.  Hence, 
Navajoes  seldom  or  never  kill  one.  From  other  fish  Whilohay 


ESPANOL. 


622  OEIGIN   OF   THE   NAVAJOES. 

refilled  the  animal  creation.  The  turkey  was  made  from  a  fish 
in  a  lake  covered  with  foam,  which  lodged  on  his  tail  as  he 
swam  ashore;  hence,  the  white  feathers  in  the  turkey's  tail. 
White  men  after  death  go  up  into  the  air ;  Navajoes  go  down 
through  Bat  Caiion  and  into  the  earth.  Thence  they  come  out 
a  long  way  west,  on  the  edge  of  a  great  water.  The  shore  is 
guarded  by  terrible  evil  spirits  in  the  form  of  men,  but  with 
great  ears  reaching  from  above  their  heads  to  the  ground. 
When  asleep,  they  lie  on  one  ear  and  cover  with  the  other. 
Whether  they  ever  "  walk  off  on  their  ear,'7  the  old  man  did 
not  inform  me.  Only  half  of  them  sleep  at  a  time,  and  the 
Navajo  has  to  fight  his  way  through  them.  If  he  is  brave, 
and  has  treated  his  women  well,  he  gets  through ;  then  the  god- 
dess takes  him  across  the  water.  There,  like  the  white  man, 
they  stop ;  from  that  country  no  one  has  ever  come  back,  to  say 
what  is  there,  or  tell  us  about  the  climate. 

But  the  reader  must  not  too  hastily  infer,  as  do  some,  that  all 
this  is  a  tradition  of  the  Noachian  deluge.  No  savage  people 
could  possibly  have  traditions  reaching  back  half  so  far.  Their 
"long,  long  years  ago"  refer  to  much  shorter  periods  than  is 
generally  supposed.  The  mind  of  a  savage  is  like  that  of  a 
child,  easily  fatigued ;  he  will  not  think  long  or  earnestly  on 
any  abstract  question,  for  thinking  tires  him.  All  wild  people 
have  traditions  of  famines,  floods,  and  earthquakes,  because  all 
have  had  famines,  floods,  and  earthquakes ;  not  one  flood,  but 
many. 

Since  my  return  to  the  States  I  have  been  astonished  to  learn 
that  American  archaeologists  have  generally  decided  that  the 
Navajoes  were  originally  a  Pueblo  race;  and  that  they  became 
partially  wild  from  having  fled  to  the  mountains  on  account  of 
the  Spanish  invasion.  Professor  J.  H.  Baldwin,  author  of 
"Ancient  America,"  gives  them  a  high  rank  among  the  old 
civilized  races ;  and  other  writers  assign  them  to  the  Toltec 
branch  of  the  Mexicans.  They  add  that  the  Natches,  Nez 
Perces,  and  Navajoes,  instead  of  being  original  wild  tribes 
improved  by  contact  and  mixture  with  Pueblos,  are  original 
Pueblos  degenerated  by  mingling  with  the  wild  tribes.  This 


THE   PRICE   OF   A    WIFE.  623 

theory  explains  more  of  the  facts  I  observed  among  them  than 
any  other. 

Like  barbarian  races  generally,  they  sell  their  daughters  in 
marriage.  Common  to  average  can  be  had  for  property  to  the 
value  of  $25 ;  prime  to  fine  for  $50 ;  while  young  and  extra 
go  at  $60,  the  standard  price  of  the  Navajo  speckled  pony. 
While  in  Canon  de  Chelley,  I  was  offered  a  beautiful  Miss  of 
fifteen  for  $60,  or  the  horse  I  was  riding.  Perhaps  I  should 
have  closed  with  the  offer — it  is  so  much  cheaper  than  one  can 
get  a  wife  in  the  States.  Two  months  vigorous  courting  will 
cost  more  than  that — particularly  in  the  ice  cream-season. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

DOWN   TO   THE   COLORADO. 

Diversion  from  intended  route — Summary  of  the  Thirty-fifth  parallel  route — 
Leave  the  outlaw  Navajoes — Addition  to  our  party — Our  interpreter — Lost  on 
the  desert — An  aboriginal  joke — A  wonderful  grazing  ground — Battle-field  of 
Apaches  and  Navajoes — Comparison  of  skulls — Reach  the  Colorado  Canon — 
Sublime  sight — A  fearful  descent — Nine  hours  going  down  hill — No  passage — 
Find  one  of  Major  Powell's  boats — Dexterity  of  the  Indians — I  risk  the  passage 
— "  Major  Doyle  " — Indian  romance — Castilian  andNavajo  tongues — Good-by« 
to  my  dark  friends — Safely  over  at  last. 

Y  original  intention  was  necessarily  abandoned  on  leaving 
Moqui ;  for  I  could  not  follow  the  line  of  the  Thirty- 
fifth  parallel  road  any  farther  west  without  entering 
the  Apache  country.  After  passing  the  summit  of  the 
Sierra  Madre,  the  route  turns  a  little  to  the  southward, 
and  at  Defiance,  Arizona,  I  was  fifteen  miles  north  of  it.  From 
Defiance  to  the  Moqui  towns,  leaving  out  the  departure  to 
Caiion  de  Chelley,  my  course  was  nearly  straight  west,  and  that 
of  the  road  a  little  southward  ;  and  at  Moqui  I  was  forty  miles 
north  of  the  line.  The  road  continues  to  bear  a  little  south  of 
west,  and  crosses  the  Colorado  at  a  place  called  the  "  Needles," 
not  far  from  Mohave.  The  slope  westward  is  great,  with  a 
corresponding  increase  of  heat,  and  the  Navajoes — a  race  of 
mountaineers,  native  to  a  singularly  cool  and  bracing  climate — 
can  not  endure  the  heat  of  southwestern  Arizona  nearly  so  well 
as  a  white  man. 

At  this  departure  a  brief  summary  is  in  order.  The  general 
result  of  my  observations  was  not  a  disappointment,  as  my, ex- 
pectations of  this  western  country  were  not  so  high  as  those  of 
some  who  have  never  visited  it.  The  first  section  of  the  Thirty- 
fifth  parallel  road,  through  Missouri,  traverses  a  good  country, 
624 


DECREASE  OF  POPULATION  IN  SANTA  FE.      625 

with  the  exception  of  that  upon  and  near  the  Ozark  Ridge. 
The  second  section,  in  the  Indian  Territory,  crosses  that  fertile 
strip,  which  is  two  to  three  hundred  miles  wide,  west  of  the 
Missouri  line,  and  stretches  from  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  two  hun- 
dred miles  into  British  America. 

This  road  runs  about  the  same  distance  through  this  fertile 
strip  as  the  roads  do  in  Kansas  and  Nebraska;  and  in  much  the 
same  manner  the  good  tillable  land  yields  gradually  to  the 
"plains"  proper.  This  last  section,  from  two  to  four  hundred 
miles  wide,  may  possibly  have  one  acre  in  fifty  fit  for  cultiva- 
tion, by  the  aid  of  irrigation.  A  large  portion  of  it  is  good  for 
grazing;  but  grazing  lands  rarely  build  up  large  cities,  and  for 
speculative  purposes  all  that  portion  of  the  road  between  longitude 
100°  and  the  Rio  Grande  may  be  dismissed  from  our  summary. 

West  of  the  "plains"  comes  the  first  mountainous  region, 
which  is  practically  of  no  value  in  our  calculation  ;  and  the  next 
section  is  the  Rio  Grande  Valley.  Deducting  the  Jornada  del 
Muerto  ("  Journey  of  the  Dead  ")  and  upper  lands,  fit  only  for 
pasture,  this  oasis  may  be  set  down  as  three  hundred  miles 
long  and  ten  miles  wide,  of  great  natural  fertility. 

The  railroad  line  bisects  this  tract,  leaving  nearly  three-fourths 
of  it  south  of  the  point  of  crossing,  and  at  that  point,  as  regards 
towns  or  town  sites,  was  the  only  chance  for  speculation  I 
saw  on  the  whole  route.  The  road,  running  nearly  straight 
west,  reaches  the  river  at  Bernalillo;  it  then  runs  down  the  east 
bank  through  Albuquerque  to  Isletta,  and  there  crosses  the  river 
and  proceeds  westward.  One  of  these  three  places  is  to  be  a  very 
important  city ;  all  of  them  will  be  considerable  towns.  The 
chances  as  to  location  appear  to  be  in  favor  of  Isletta,  as  the 
natural  entrepot  of  all  the  valley  south  of  it,  but  Albuquerque 
has  the  start. 

Santa  Fe  I  consider  entirely  out  of  the  question,  though  its 
inhabitants  were  properly  indignant  at  my  estimate  of  them  and 
their  town.  It  appears  to  me  entirely  out  of  the  track  of  any 
railroad,  and  destined  to  slow  death.  All  the  signs  indicate  that 
its  population  is  much  less  than  it  was  ten  years  ago,  and  must 
continue  to  decrease  for  the  next  twenty. 
40 


626 

Leaving  the  Rio  Grande,  we  enter  the  "American  Desert," 
which  continues  with  but  rare  oases  all  the  way  to  and  beyond 
the  Colorado.  This  route  is  like  all  other  routes  across  the 
Continent  in  one  respect :  it  must  traverse  a  desert  region  from 
four  to  eight  hundred  miles  wide.  But  this  line  has  two  advan- 
tages :  the  desert  country  is  more  narrow,  and  the  natural  route 
better.  The  whole  region  between  the  Rio  Grande  and  Col- 
orado, from  latitude  34°  to  38°,  is  a  grand  succession  of  plateaus. 
Here  and  there  in  western  New  Mexico  is  a  small  valley  where 
half  a  dozen  sections,  by  the  aid  of  irrigation,  sustain  a  miser- 
able Mexican  hamlet  of  a  few  hundred  people;  and  in  Arizona 
there  are  larger  tracts  on  the  San  Juan  and  Colorado  Chiquito. 

The  mountains  about  Fort  Wingate  abound  in  timber.  On 
the  Navajo  Reserve  I  crossed  one  splendid  forest  fifteen  miles 
square,  and  southwest  of  Moqui,  on  the  slopes  of  the  San  Fran- 
cisco and  White  Mountains,  the  road  runs  through  a  heavily- 
timbered  country  for  over  fifty  miles.  All  accounts  agree  in 
representing  that  the  timber  there  is  very  fine  and  the  country 
well  watered.  In  their  best  days,  before  their  last  war,  when 
the  Navajoes  were  the  wealthiest  tribe  in  the  mountains,  they 
pastured  nearly  a  million  sheep  and  goats  between  Dead  Man's 
Canon  and  the  junction  of  the  two  Coloradoes — about  all  the 
country  could  sustain.  Many  large  tracts  of  grass  are  fqund 
without  water,  several  of  which  we  crossed.  But  making  all 
possible  allowance  for  timber,  grass  and  water,  at  least  half,  if 
not  two-thirds  of  this  vast  section — three  hundred  by  four  hun- 
dred miles  in  extent,  four  times  the  size  of  Indiana — is  utterly 
worthless  and  irredeemable,  uninhabited  and  forever  uninhab- 
itable. Certainly  it  can  not  average  one  acre  in  a  hundred  fit 
for  cultivation.  It  has  some  advantages  over  most  of  these 
deserts;  where  I  traveled  there  is  very  little  alkali,  and  the 
climate  is  not  disagreeably  warm.  During  the  entire  time  I 
was  with  the  Navajoes,  my  hardships  were  less  than  they  have 
often  been  in  the  same  amount  of  time  on  railroads.  The  ab- 
sence of  alkali  added  greatly  to  my  comfort,  and  the  nights  were 
always  cool,  the  days  often  relieved  by  a  pleasant  wind. 

We  were  off  from  the  camp  of  the  Outlaw  Navajoes,  after 


A    DOUBTFUL   TRAIL.  627 

the  usual  handshakings,  on  the  morning  of  June  27th  ;  and 
went  in  a  succession  of  zigzags  all  forenoon,  to  nearly  every 
point  of  the  compass.  In  two  miles  we  found  the  broad  beauti- 
ful valley  narrowed  to  a  mere  cailon ;  and  a  little  farther  the 
cafion  to  a  deep,  dark  gorge,  with  walls  quite  perpendicular 
shutting  out  the  sunshine,  and  the  bottom  thickly  grown  with 
scrubby  pine.  The  stream  had  entirely  disappeared  a  mile 
below  the  spring,  but  the  condition  of  this  timber  showed  that 
there  was  an  under  stratum  of  moist  sand.  Occasionally  I  saw 
a  cavity  which  looked  as  if  it  might  have  been  a  spring  a  thou- 
sand years  ago,  in  which  one  or  two  sickly  cotton  woods  sus- 
tained a  sort  of  dying  life — enough  to  show  that  there  was 
moist  earth  two  or  three  feet  below.  The  rock  on  our  right 
appeared  at  one  place  to  be  broken  square  across,  displaying  a 
dark  cross-cut,  into  which  John  whirled  his  horse.  I  followed 
to  find  a  terribly  dangerous-looking  trail,  up  which  we  climbed 
some  six  or  seven  hundred  feet  to  a  tolerably  level  plain.  For 
two  miles  due  north  we  traversed  a  patch  of  rich  grass ;  then 
the  guide,  a  hundred  yards  ahead  of  me,  suddenly  disappeared, 
as  if  he  had  sunk  into  the  earth.  I  hurried  up  to  find  him 
going  down  another  narrow  gorge,  which  opened  as  a  rift  in  the 
earth  not  more  than  twenty-five  feet  wide,  with  an  incline  of 
forty-five  degrees  to  the  sandy  bottom  five  hundred  feet  below. 
Through  this  a  mile  brought  us  out  on  another  plain,  across 
which  we  traveled  some  four  or  five  miles;  then  brought  up  at 
a  ledge  which  rose  something  like  a  thousand  feet  almost  per- 
pendicularly above  us.  Along  the  foot  of  this,  westward,  a  few 
miles  brought  us  to  a  point  where  the  face  of  the  cliff  fell  back 
to  a  slope  of  forty-five  or  less;  we  sidled  up  this,  and  reached 
the  summit  with  horses  pretty  well  exhausted.  Entering  on 
another  gently  rolling  sandy  plain,  with  only  occasional  patches 
of  good  grass,  about  10  A.  M.  we  found  a  hole  on  the  surface  of 
the  rock  containing  enough  rain  water  for  our  horses.  "While 
resting  a  moment,  a  Navajo  lad  of  some  fifteen  years  came 
galloping  up.  He  had  reached  Moqui  the  evening  after  we  left 
it,  and  run  his  horse  nearly  to  death  to  overtake  us,  which  our 
halt  at  the  spring  alone  enabled  him  to  do.  He  had  some  fine 


628  UNPLEASANT    POSITION. 

blankets,  woven  by  his  mother,  and  expected  to  trade  them  for 
a  horse  at  the  Mormoney  casa.  We  made  a  "  dry  camp  "  for 
dinner,  took  an  hour's  grazing,  and  were  just  off  when  up  gal- 
loped Espaiiol,  also  with  a  few  blankets.  He  had  concluded, 
an  hour  after  we  left,  to  go  to  the  settlement ;  because,  as  I 
suspect,  he  had  noted  the  size  of  my  provision  sacks.  We  were 
now  four  in  number,  and  traveled  the  rest  of  the  day  on  a 
sandstone  ridge  tending  west-northwest.  Far  as  I  could  see 
the  country  appeared  to  slope  from  this  ridge  northward  and 
southward  toward  the  two  Coloradoes. 

About  5  P.  M.,  we  reached  a  regular  water  hole,  to  find  it 
dry — to  the  dismay  of  the  Navajoes.  After  a  brief  consulta- 
tion, Espaiiol  informed  me  they  would  hurry  on  down  the  slope 
southwest,  and  find  water  on  the  other  side  of  the  next  valley  ; 
and  that  I  might  follow  their  tracks,  poco-poco-poco  (moderate 
walk).  They  galloped  off,  and  were  soon  out  of  sight  •  I  fol- 
lowed, and  in  an  hour  had  lost  their  trail  on  a  sandstone  flat. 
Still  I  maintained  the  course  toward  a  bright,  green  valley, 
which  now  appeared  in  the  distance.  I  reached  and  crossed  it, 
to  find  that  the  green  was  not  from  grass,  as  I  had  supposed, 
but  from  thrifty  grease  wood.  There  was  not  a  spear  of  grass 
nor  a  drop  of  water,  though  the  shade  of  green  on  the  brush 
showed  there  was  moisture  below ;  and  not  a  horse-track  or  a 
Navajo  in  sight.  I  began  to  feel  very  uncomfortable  and  nerv- 
ous. The  prospect  of  being  lost  in  that  place  was  decidedly 
not  pleasant.  I  fired  my  gun  two  or  three  times,  and  shouted 
with  all  my  might,  but  no  response.  Determined  finally  to 
ascend  the  ridge  west  and  overlook  as  much  country  as  possible, 
I  struck  up  a  sloping  hollow,  and  in  half  a  mile  came  upon  the 
three  Navajoes  sitting  round  a  deep  pool  of  water  and  grinning 
in  concert.  The  aborigines  had  witnessed  all  my  embarrass- 
ment, and  attempts  to  trace  them  below  ;  but,  true  to  the  "  noble 
instincts"  of  the  race,  preferred  to  sit  and  smile  at  me  working 
out  my  own  salvation. 

The  horses  could  not  get  down  in  the  water  hole,  so  they  had 
taken  a  blanket  full  of  sand  and  made  a  dam  across  a  little 
depression  in  the  rock;  this  we  rapidly  filled  with  our  wicker 


SCARCITY   OF    WATER.  629 

jugs,  and  so  enabled  our  horses  to  drink.  At  6  o'clock  we  were 
off  again,  and  at  8  made  a  "dry  camp."  I  soon  went  to  sleep, 
but  woke  in  an  hour  or  so  to  find  that  the  Navajoes  had  built 
an  immense  bonfire  on  a  hill  near  by.  This  was  soon  answered 
by  another,  apparently  twenty  miles  to  the  south.  Our  party 
then  took  torches  of  pine  limbs  and  waving  them  as  they  went, 
built  three  more  fires  in  a  line  a  little  north  of  west.  The 
other  party  responded  with  three  fires  in  a  line  apparently  due 
west,  or  a  little  southward.  Espaiiol  translated  this  to  mean 
that  a  considerable  party  of  Navajoes  were  half  a  day's  ride 
south  of  us;  that  they  would  go  straight  on  west,  crossing  the 
Little  Colorado,  and  we  would  not  meet  them. 

We  left  camp  on  the  28th  by  moonlight,  as  the  ride  to  water 
was  to  be  a  long  one,  and  accomplished  some  twenty  miles  by 
10  o'clock  A.  M.  We  had  traveled  two  hours  down  a  sandstone 
slope,  to  find  at  the  bottom  a  deep,  moist  hole,  but  no  water. 
A  little  damp  mud  showed  that  it  had  been  dry  only  a  few  days. 
The  Navajoes  consulted,  and  Espaiiol  explained  that  they  would 
go  due  north  some  fifteen  miles,  and  at  the  head  of  a  hollow 
running  into  the  Great  Colorado  would  find  a  hole  which  usu- 
ally held  water  longer  than  this,  and  therefore  had  enough  now. 
As  his  horse  was  fresh,  he  would  take  two  jugs  aiid  gallop  on 
ahead,  the  others  should  follow  in  a  trot,  and  I  come  on  poco- 
poco,  till  he  brought  back  water  to  me.  I  was  soon  alone  again, 
and  had  a  weary,  hot  ride,  of  at  least  twelve  miles,  when  I 
descended  into  a  grassy  valley,  several  miles  wide,  but  saw  no 
trace  of  the  Navajoes.  I  rested,  chewed  mescal  and  let  my  horse 
graze  an  hour ;  then  rode  nearly  across,  when  I  saw  Espaiiol 
coming  down  the  opposite  side.  He  had  enough  water  for  me, 
and  a  hatful  for  my  horse.  They  had  reached  the  spring,  rested 
an  hour,  and  then  concluded  I  had  lost  the  trail  again. 

A  mile  or  two  brought  us  to  the  water,  which  I  found  to  be 
i:i  a  round  hole,  some  ten  feet  deep  in  the  sandstone,  warm  and 
stagnant;  but  it  made  good  coffee,  and  the  stock  drank  it  with 
avidity.  Espaiiol  had  started  on  the  trip  with  about  five  pounds 
of  dried  antelope  and  two  or  three  quarts  of  parched  corn ; 
everything  was  in  common,  and  we  had  quite  a  feast  here.  We 


630  "  EL    MONTE !    GRANDE    AGUA ! " 

started  clue  west  to  come  on  our  former  trail,  and  in  a  few  miles 
left  the  sandstone  ridge  and  went  down  into  a  beautiful  vale 
eight  or  ten  miles  wide.  The  bunch-grass  and  white  seed-grass 
were  the  finest  I  had  seen,  and  there  were  many  clumps  of 
pinon  pine,  but  no  water  or  arable  land.  They  informed  me 
that  this  valley  extended  entirely  across  between  the  two  rivers, 
and  was  this  wide,  with  good  grass,  all  the  way;  that  at  the 
south  end  it  sloped  down  to  the  Little  Colorado  in  broad  green 
meadows,  where  was  the  only  water  in  the  whole  tract.  If 
their  account  be  true,  here  is  a  section  of  one  or  two  hundred 
square  miles  of  rich  pasturage,  with  no  water  except  at  one  end. 

Far  southward  a  mountain  peak,  its  summit  dazzling  white 
with  snow,  rose  in  the  form  of  a  sharp  cone ;  and  Espafiol  in- 
formed me  that  from  the  foot  of  that  peak,  there  was  much 
timber  and  game  to  the  Little  Colorado;  also,  that  when  the 
first  snow  fell  on  the  lower  hills,  the  antelope  and  other  animals 
came  across  into  this  grassy  country  by  thousands;  then  the 
Xavajoes  went  on  their  fall  hunt,  and  used  to  meet  the  Apaches 
here  long  ago  and  had  many  fights.  But  now  the  Apaches 
never  came  this  far  north. 

We  soon  came  to  where  skulls  were  quite  numerous,  some- 
times with  other  fragments  of  human  bones.  My  companions 
called  attention  to  the  difference  between  those  of  the  two  tribes ; 
and  when  we  came  upon  five  skulls  in  one  place,  two  Navajo 
and  three  Apaches,  Espailol  said  with  a  grin  "  Todos  muertos, 
pero  mas  Apaches"  (All  killed,  but  the  most  Apaches).  In 
the  dry  climate,  on  that  sandy  soil,  the  skulls  may  have  lain 
there  fifty  years. 

We  passed  this  and  another  sandstone  ridge,  on  the  west 
side  of  which  we  found  a  little  depression  with  some  five  acres 
of  good  grass,  and  made  a  "  dry  camp."  The  dark  cavity  and 
blue  mist  over  the  Colorado  had  been  visible  all  the  afternoon, 
and  John  decided  that  we  should  descend  the  first  cliff  and  go 
to  the  nearest  spring  before  breakfast.  We  were  off  next 
morning  by  daylight,  in  a  sweeping  trot,  and  in  an  hour  I 
heard  from  Espafiol,  in  the  lead,  the  glad  err  of  "  Elmonte! 
Grande  agua!"  and  hurried  up  to  the  cliff;  but  at  the  first 


KO   THOROUGHFARE. 


631 


"TODOS  MUERTOS,   PERO   MAS   APACHES." 

view,  recoiled  with  a  sort  of  horror  and  dread.  Before  us 
was  a  sheer  descent  of  at  least  three  thousand  feet,  then  a  plain 
some  three  miles  wide,  led  to  an  abrupt  and  narrow  gorge,  three 
thousand  feet  deep,  at  the  bottom  of  which  rolled,  in  forbidding 
whirlpools  and  rapids,  the  red  and  yellow  waters  of  the  Colo- 
rado. Notwithstanding  the  great  distance,  so  far  did  it  lie  be- 
low me  that  in  some  of  the  turns  I  could  see  the  whole  width 
of  the  stream.  On  the  opposite  side  was  a  similar  succession 
of  cliffs,  red  and  yellow  sandstone,  and  seeming  even  more  rug- 
ged. How  on  earth  were  we  ever  to  get  down,  or  once  down, 
getr  out  again?  John  smiled  at  my  look  of  dismay,  and  indi- 
cated our  route  down  a  narrow  gulch,  breaking  into  the  cliff 
near  us,  which  it  seemed  to  me  certain  destruction  to  enter. 
As  usual  I  appealed  to  our  Interpreter: 
"  No  camino  bueno,  mi  amigo,  por  los  caballosf" 
"Si,  Senor,  si!  si!  Bueno  bastante  ayui:  Vamos"  replied 
Espailol,  pointing  to  a  dark  line  a  thousand  feet  below,  which 
he  insisted  was  a  path,  though  it  looked  to  me  like  a  mere  stain 
on  the  face  of  the  cliff. 

Off  horses,  girths  tightened,  packs  carefully  examined,  and 
walking  behind  the  horses  with  lariats  trailed  over  their  backs, 


632 


THE    FIRST    DESCENT. 


we  ventured  on  the  descent ;  John  in  front  shouting  directions, 
the  boy  next  repeating  them,  and  Espanol  third  translating 
them  to  the  writer,  who  cautiously  brought  up,  or  rather 
brought  down,  the  rear.  I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  this  at 
first  glance;  for  if  either  horse  should  conclude  to  go  with  a 
ricochet,  sweeping  all  below  him,  I  thought  two  or  three  Indians 

could  be  better  spared 
than  one  white  man. 
The  narrow  path 
wound  this  way  and 
that,  to-  every  point 
of  the  compass,  re- 
ducing the  main  in- 
cline of  seventy  de- 
grees or  more  to  a 
series  with  a  slope  of 
forty-five  or  less;  at 
times  so  far  into  the 
gorges  that  I  lost  all 
sight  of  the  river,  and 
again  out  to  the  point 
of  a  ridge,  where  I 
dared  not  look  for 
/'J  fear  of  giddiness. 
^1  From  above  or  below 
m  it  looks  perfectly 
hopeless,  but  once  on 
the  face  of  the  hill, 
the  little  marks  grow 
into  footpaths  and 
ledges  two  or  tbree  feet  wide;  and  the  danger  is  really  trifling, 
as,  if  one  fell,  he  would  be  caught  by  the  next  offset,  but  a  few 
feet  below.  Sometimes  we  found  a  square  offset  in  the  path  of  two 
feet  or  so,  when  the  horses  would  cautiously  drop  the  fore  feet, 
having  abundant  room  to  catch  and  bring  the  hind  feet  down 
with  the  caution  of  an  acrobat.  Two  hours  brought  us  to  the 
plain,  when  we  heard  a  shout  that  seemed  in  mid  air  above  our 


GETTING  DOWN  TO   THE   COLORADO. 


THE   SECOND   DESCENT.  633 

heads,  and  looking  up  saw  three  more  Navajoes  just  entering  on 
the  descent.  The  sight  made  me  shudder;  they  looked  like 
some  species  of  wild  animal  clinging  on  the  face  of  the  cliff. 

We  reached  the  promised  spring  and  found  no  water.  The 
Navajoes  insisted  there  was  some  in  the  gulch,  so  we  hunted 
along  it  toward  the  mountain  till  we  found  a  little  moist  sand 
and  green,  watery  grass ;  there  we  fell  to  with  our  tin  cups  and 
butcher  knives  and  dug  several  holes,  which  soon  filled.  The 
water  was  cool,  but  tasted  like  a  mild  infusion  of  Epsorn  salts. 
It  made  coffee,  but  all  the  sugar  it  could  dissolve  did  not 
sweeten  it  perceptibly. 

Skirting  along  the  foot  of  the  cliff  in  a  northeasterly  direc- 
tion, every  mile  or  so  a  section  of  the  lower  cliff,  a  hundred  feet 
or  more  in  hight,  seemed  to  leave  it  and  bend  back  to  join  the 
upper  one;  and  down  this  succession  of  "  benches"  we  worked 
through  convenient  gulches,  sinking  slowly  toward  the  level  of 
the  river.  In  another  gulch  some  three  miles  from  this  so-called 
spring  we  found  a  hole  with  moist  sand,  and  dug  again,  this 
time  finding  good  water.  I  was  beginning  to  congratulate  my- 
self that  our  labors  were  nearly  ended,  when  we  came  upon  an 
abrupt  ridge,  at  least  two  thousand  feet  high,  putting  out  to  the 
river  and  completely  shutting  off  the  trail  in  that  direction. 
Over  this  we  must  go.  The  path  turned  southeast,  and  walking 
in  front  of  our  horses  we  again  commenced  climbing.  It  was 
the  worst  job  we  had,  and  defies  description.  The  JNTavajoes 
were  an  hour  ahead  of  me  when  I  reached  the  summit;  but 
there  was  only  one  trail,  and  that  a  plain  one.  The  opposite  side 
of  this  ridge  broke  into  a  dozen  pointed  spurs.  Out  one,  down 
a  slight  slope  and  into  a  groove  in  the  rock,  I  found  the  trail 
leading  along  back  into  the  hollow;  then  out  another  ridge  and 
back  into  the  second  hollow;  then  back  again  around  all  the 
windings  of  the  two  hollows,  and  I  found  myself  on  the  sharp 
end  of  the  first  ridge  again,  but  in  a  groove  five  hundred  feet 
below  the  one  where  I  had  left  it.  Around  this  peak  I  followed 
to  the  southwest,  then  back  and  forward  till  I  was  dizzy,  and 
more  times  than  I  could  count.  I  came  out  at  length  upon  a 
gentle  Aslope,  which  brought  me  down  to  the  plain  at  a  point 
where  the  river  was  running  nearly  straight  north.  It  was 


634  A   SHORT   PROSPECT. 

3  o'clock  p.  M.,  and  I  glanced  back  to  the  point  of  the  upper 
cliff  which  we  had  left  soon  after  sunrise;  it  appeared  about 
four  miles  distant,  and  six  or  seven  thousand  feet  above 
me.  Had  I  not  made  the  trip  myself,  I  should  have  been 
qualified  to  make  oath  that  no  human  being,  much  less  a 
horse,  could  ever  get  down  or  up  there.  We  were  in  a  sort  of 
cove,  the  mountain  shutting  us  in  north  and  south,  with  bold 
headlands  running  out  to  the  river  in  the  shape  of  a  U.  To 
our  left  the  river  set  with  great  violence  against  the  base  of  a 
rock  some  sixty  feet  high,  on  which  was  a  lookout,  whence  we 
could  make  out  a  house  and  garden  on  the  other  side,  nearly 
two  miles  distant.  We  shouted  and  fired  guns  at  intervals  all 
afternoon,  without  response;  but  at  sundown,  when  the  wind 
was  too  high  to  hear  distinctly,  somebody  answered. 

John's  father  and  two  other  Navajoes  soon  arrived,  having 
killed  a  young  antelope  on  the  way.  The  meat  at  this  season 
was  very  tough  and  hard ;  but  if  we  were  to  stay  here  long  it 
must  serve  as  our  subtitute  for  bread. 

I  retired,  slept,  and  rose  again,  out  of  humor  with  all  Mor- 
mons, but  particularly  those  on  the  opposite  side.  Here  were 
six  Navajoes  and  one  white  man  imprisoned  on  a  sand  bar,  for 
want  of  the  boat,  and  they  seemed  to  take  no  care  about  the 
situation.  I  climbed  to  the  lookout  before  sunrise,  and  saw 
people  moving  about  the  house ;  yelled  myself  hoarse,  and  had 
the  mortification  to  see  the  only  man  in  sight  climb  on  a  horse 
and  ride  off  in  the  opposite  direction.  I  attached  two  white 
handkerchiefs  to  a  pole,  upright  on  the  peak,  and  came  down 
disgusted. 

The  spot  on  which  we  were  encamped  would  soon  starve  our 
horses;  we  had  bacon,  coffee  and  antelope  for  two  days,  but  no 
bread,  and  thanks  to  the  prejudices  of  Navajoes,  I  had  the  two 
remaining  boxes  of  sardines  to  myself.  Now  sardines  are  a 
decided  luxury  with  the  usual  accompaniments;  but  when  one 
attempts  to  live  on  them  without  bread,  they  are  a  very  embar- 
rassing diet.  The  Indians  soon  hunted  a  crevice  on  the  other 
side  of  the  peak  below  us,  which  enabled  them  to  get  down  to 
the  shore  there. 


INGENIOUS    BOATING.  G35 

A  shout  of  surprise  brought  me  to  that  side,  and  I  saw  the 
boys  had  discovered  a  boat  cached  against  a  rock  and  covered 
with  brush,  leaving  only  the  bow  visible.  They  rigged  an 
arrangement  to  let  me  down  with  lariats,  where  they  had 
climbed,  and  we  all  went  to  work  on  the  boat.  In  three  hours 
we  had  it  out  of  the  sand  and  brush,  and  into  the  river;  then 
the  Navajoes  were  clamorous  for  me  to  make  an  immediate 
trial  of  crossing.  But  we  found  no  oars.  The  boat  was 
eighteen  feet  long,  with  places  for  four  rowers ;  it  had  two  com- 
partments, and  on  the  stern  was  the  name,  "  Emma  Dean."  I 
concluded,  correctly  as  it  proved,  that  it  was  one  of  Major 
Powell's.  But  all  our  search  brought  to  light  no  oars.  They 
were  cached  so  effectually  that  even  the  Navnjoes  could  not 
find  them.  The  river  there  appeared  about  as  wide  as  the 
Ohio,  at  Cincinnati;  but  running  three  or  four  times  as  much 
water,  being  very  deep,  swift,  and  full  of  rapids.  I  had  no 
hope  whatever  of  getting  over  under  such  circumstances,  and 
more  with  a  view  of  satisfying  the  boys  than  anything  else, 
explained  to  them  the  force  of  that  current;  that  I  must  have 
two  oars  of  some  kind,  and  that  the  boat  must  be  hauled  up  at 
least  a  mile  on  this  side.  To  my  surprise  they 'fell  to  at  once, 
declaring  they  would  haul  it  up  in  time  for  me  to  cross  that  day. 
Navajoes  are  utterly  ignorant  both  of  rowing  and  swimming,  as 
with  the  exception  of  one  or  two  places  on  the  San  Juan,  their 
country  does  not  contain  water  enough  to  drown  an  infant. 
Hence,  I  judged  they  would  never  get  the  boat  around  the  first 
point,  which  would  have  baffled  many  boatmen;  as  a  rocky 
headland  overhung  the  river  at  a  hight  of  sixty  feet  or  more, 
under  and  against  the  base  of  which  the  bend  threw  the  full 
force  of  the  current  in  dangerous  whirls.  But  I  had  under- 
rated their  wonderful  skill  and  activity.  The  boat  had  about 
a  hundred  feet  of  rope  attached.  One  of  the  Navajoes  climbed 
to  the  rocky  point,  dropped  a  lengthened  lariat,  and  climbed 
down  a  crevice  and  out  one  point,  till  he  could  swing  it  clear. 
Then  he  began  a  slow  oscillation,  steadily  increasing  to  the 
utmost  reach  of  joined  lariats ;  but  the  swinging  end  was  still 
twenty  feet  distant  from  the  farthest  point  out  to  which  one 


636  DANGEROUS   CROSSING. 

could  reach  below.  John  then  took  the  rope  and  threw  it 
again  and  again,  while  the  man  above  swung  the  lariat;  but  it 
was  nearly  an  hour  before  they  succeeded  in  lapping  them 
together  to  connect.  That  difficulty  was  then  over;  another 
lariat  was  passed  over  the  rock,  the  rope  thus  hauled  around 
the  point,  and  a  hold  obtained  above.  John  stuck  to  the  boat 
and  shoved  the  bow  off  shore,  while  the  others  hauled  it  up 
opposite  our  camp. 

Meanwhile,  the  two  old  men  had  taken  pieces  of  drift  wood, 
and  with  their  butcher  knives  hacked  out  two  concerns,  which 
might  serve  in  a  rude  fashion  for  oars.  They  thought  it  strange 
that  a  Melicano,  who  professed  to  know  how  to  row,  should 
hesitate  to  cross;  but  "I  did  not  like  to  risk  it.  The  very 
aspect  of  the  place  frightened  me:  the  lofty  walls  inclosing  a 
canon  six  or  seven  thousand  feet  deep ;  the  rocky  face,  red  and 
scarred  as  if  blasted  by  angry  lightnings;  the  bare  sand  plain, 
and  the  swift  river  roaring  against  projecting  rocks,  all  looked 
very  different  from  the  placid  Wabash  and  Ohio,  where  I 
learned  rowing.  A  mile  above,  the  upper  and  lower  cliff 
appeared  to  run  together,  with  an  offset  of  but  a  rod  or  two, 
and  there  the  sheer  descent  from  the  plateau  to  the  river  was 
at  least  six  thousand  feet — almost  perpendicular.  I  fixed  my 
eye  on  pieces  of  drift  wood  to  measure  the  current;  it  was  a 
little  more  than  twenty  minutes  from  the  time  they  came  in 
sight  above  till  they  disappeared  in  rapids  two  miles  below. 
How  could  I  hope  to  paddle  across  in  less  than  twentv 
minutes? 

It  was  1  P.  M.,  and  we  had  the  boat  at  our  camp  and  two 
oars.  I  took  my  coffee  and  sardines,  chewed  mescal  reflectively 
for  half  an  hour,  and  then  proposed  to  the  boys  that  we  make 
our  blankets  into  horse  collars  and  lariats  to  gears,  and  haul  the 
boat  across  the  point.  The  bend  above,  I  had  noticed,  would 
throw  it  offshore,  and  with  the  aid  of  an  eddy  put  us  halfway 
across.  They  objected  decidedly :  the  horses  would  kick  each 
other,  and  forty  other  evils  to  their  property  would  result. 
Ignorant  as  they  were  of  that  element,  they  much  preferred 
taking  it  by  water.  Their  own  lives  and  limbs  they  were  ready 


A    WOMAN    WITH    HOPE.  637 

to  risk,  and  at  my  service  ;  but  as  to  their  horses  and  other 
property — if  it  was  all  the  same  to  me,  they  preferred  to  be  ex- 
cused. They  had  evidently  adopted  the  sound  philosophy  that 
life  without  a  fair  share  of  property  is  not  worth  caring  for. 
Their  horses,  etc.,  said  Espaiiol  eloquently,  were  their  all ;  did 
I  expect  them  to  go  home  poor?  So  to  the  river  we  betook 
ourselves,  though  to  me  the  case  looked  hopeless.  The  bank 
was  so  steep  that  it  could  only  be  descended  once  in  two  or  three 
hundred  feet;  and  overgrown  thickly  nearly  all  the  way  with 
willows  and  thorny  bushes,  often  twenty  feet  out  into  the  water. 
The  rope  could  not  be  dragged  over  these ;  it  had  to  be  passed 
outside  of  them,  taking  advantage  of  a  bare  point  to  haul  in, 
rest  and  make  a  fresh  start.  The  four  young  fellows  stripped 
and  took  to  the  water.  I,  in  the  same  condition,  sat  astride  the 
bow  and  shoved  offshore.  They  would  drag  the  boat  to  a  con- 
venient point,  then  take  the  rope  in  their  mouths  and  pass 
themselves  around  the  willows,  holding  by  their  hands  with 
bodies  in  the  water.  A  most  ridiculous  sight  it  would  have 
been  to  one  free  from  our  solicitude :  the  naked  barbarians 
plunging  and  scrambling  in  the  river,  the  naked  white  man, 
almost  barbarous  for  the  occasion,  sitting  astride  the  bow  shout- 
ing in  wretched  Spanish  and  mixed  Navajo,  and  sometimes 
plunging  into  the  shore-mud  or  swift  stream,  where  a  little 
swimming  had  to  be  done.  We  would  toil  until  steaming  with 
sweat,  and  then  into  the  river,  which  felt  like  ice-water.  No- 
body ever  "catches  cold"  in  this  country,  or  I  should  have 
expected  a  musical  case  of  asthma,  catarrh,  etc.,  as  a  result.  In 
the  middle  of  our  work  a  woman  came  to  the  opposite  bank,  but 
the  wind  had  risen  to  such  a  blast  that  we  could  not  converse, 
and  I  could  barely  make  out  the  words  "  old  man,  to-morrow." 
By  night  we  had  made  three-quarters  of  a  mile;  the  wind 
had  fallen,  and  the  woman  appeared  again ;  after  yelling  back 
and  forward  until  I  raised  blood,  I  made  out  her  statement. 
"  The  old  man  was  gone  to  Kanab,  and  she  and  her  boy  was 
afraid  to  try  the  boat;  thought  we  was  all  Injins  when  we  hol- 
lered yesterday  ;  old  man  would  be  back  in  two  or  three  days, 
and  if  we  had  provisions  for  that  time,  we  might  wait."  She 


638  "THE  OLD  GENT." 

insisted  on  knowing  my  name  and  business,  and  to  my  query 
about  crossing  with  what  oars  I  had,  answered  that  "certainly 
I  might,  but  it  was  risky ;  bad  rapids  three  miles  below,  and  no 
place  to  land  for  twenty  miles  after  passing  the  bend." 

This  translated  to  the  boys,  they  were  again  clamorous  for  rne 
to.  try  the  passage  first  thing  in  the  morning.  Their  reputed 
stoicism  did  not  hold  out  under  poor  food  and  delay  any  better 
than  mine.  Another  breakfast  of  rancid  bacon  and  clear  coffee 
decided  me;  I  would  prefer  a  slight  risk  to  living  so  two  days 
longer.  I  got  the  boat  into  an  eddy  and  tried  to  teach  John 
and  Espafiol  to  row.  But  if  a  man  has  never  had  an  oar  in 
his  hands  till  the  age  of  maturity,  rowing  is  too  much  of  a 
science  for  him  to  learn  it  in  one  day.  So  I  made  paddles  for 
them  and  the  boy,  and  instructing  them  to  paddle,  in  one  mo- 
tion regardless  of  the  course  of  the  boat,  shoved  off.  In  three 
minutes  we  were  in  the  current,  and  it  really  seemed  to  me  we 
would  go  down  to  Fort  Yuma  before  we  reached  the  other  side. 
But  we  did  reach  it,  only  a  mile  below  the  starting  point,  and 
nearly  exhausted  I  ran  the  boat  into  a  little  creek.  We  made 
our  way  across  the  sand  flat  and  through  a  dense  thicket  to  the 
house.  The  woman  met  me  at  the  gate,  and  our  first  conversa- 
tion was — 

"My  God,  stranger,  did  you  risk  your  life  to  swim  that 
river?" 

"  Not  exactly  that,  but  next  thing  to  it." 

(Doubtfully) — "Are  you  a  white  man?" 

"  Madam,  I  was  three  weeks  ago,  when  I  last  saw  a  looking- 
glass." 

A  glance  at  one  showed  me  I  was  not  very  white,  though 
still  an  American.  As  she  informed  me,  they  had  no  boat  but 
one  of  Major  Powell's,  like  the  one  I  had  found  and  crossed  in. 
If  we  had  put  up  the  white  signal  Saturday,  "the  old  gent 
would  have  come  down  at  once,  but  he  thought  it  was  only 
Injins.  Had  gone  Sunday  with  his  other  woman  to  the  ranche 
near  Kanab.  These  were  the  other  woman's  four  children 
here ;  had  five  of  her  own,  making  a  right  smart  family  of  nine, 
'thout  the  old  gent ;  but  none  of  Jem  big  enough  to  risk  the 


ABORIGINAL  YARNS.  639 

boat ;  had  no  meat,  and  only  ten  pounds  o'  flour,  but  plenty  o' 
milk,  butter,  eggs  and  cheese;  would  they  do  ?  " 

I  rather  thought  they  would,  and  requested  that  about  five 
pounds  of  each  might  be  served  up  at  once.  She  got  me  up  a 
splendid  breakfast,  and  let  the  Indians  have  a  plentiful  supply, 
and  a  cooking  kettle.  Before  noon  we  went  back  with  a  sup- 
ply to  the  Indians  on  the  other  side.  She  gave  me  the  oars, 
which  enabled  me  to  cross  without  danger,  but  to  cross  our 
horses  we  must  wait  till  "  Major  Doyle"  came  home,  as  that  was 
the  name  she  called  the  "old  gent"  by.  - 

Two  days  passed;  the  "old  gent"  did  not  arrive,  and  our 
horses  were  hungry  enough  to  chew  sand-burrs  and  desert  weed. 
I  passed  most  of  the  day  at  the  cabin,  and  the  evening  with  the 
Indians,  explaining  the  situation  and  hearing  the  old  man's 
chants  and  aboriginal  yarns.  They  were  all  of  a  piece:  the 
Navajoes  had  been  very  rich,  they  were  now  very  poor ;  they 
had  never  lived  in  any  country  but  this,  nor  did  they  come 
from  anywhere ;  Whilohay  made  them  here,  and  said  if  they 
tried  to  live  anywhere  else  they  would  all  die;  they  did  nearly 
all  die  when  they  were  moved  down  to  Bosque  Redondo  (Fort 
Sumner) ;  they  were  great  warriors  and  good  Indians ;  the  Utes 
were  dogs,  and  the  Apaches  wolves  and  snakes;  and  the  Zunis 
ground-hogs,  and  the  Melicanoes  never  would  have  whipped 
the  Navajoes  if  they  had  not  got  other  Indians  to  help  them. 
In  short,  his  harangue  sounded  so  much  like  an  ordinary  Mor- 
mon sermon — all  self-glorification  and  disparagement  of  every- 
body else — that  I  got  tired  and  dropped  to  sleep  just  as  he  was 
telling  how  great  a  warrior  his  father  was,  and  how  many  horses 
he  once  took  from  the  Nach  kyh  (Mexican  towns). 

As  Espafiol  rendered  all  this  into  voluminous  Spanish,  with 
many  cross-questionings  on  my  part  and  repetitions  on  his,  to 
make  sure  I  had  the  correct  meaning,  the  conversation  would 
have  had  its  charms  to  the  comparative  philologist.  Sitting  in 
the  summer  night  by  our  camp  fire  on  the  great  river,  named 
by  the  Spaniard  three  centuries  ago,  its  current  roaring  against 
the  rocks  below  us,  part  of  the  romance  of  the  sixteenth  century 
seemed  to  return. 


640  COMPARATIVE   PHILOLOGY. 

It  is  scarcely  possible  to  conceive  of  a  greater  contrast  be- 
tween any  two  languages  spoken  by  man,  than  that  between 
the  Navajo  and  Spanish.  The  one  the  oldest  of  living  langua- 
ges, and  first  heir  to  the  Latin,  no  one  knows  how  much 
older ;  soft,  smooth,  flowing,  musical  and  rich  in  expressive 
inflections ;  the  result  of  three  thousand  years  of  Roman,  Moorish 
and  Gothic  cultivation  ;  with  the  wonderful  and  stately  march 
of  the  Latin  sentence,  the  soft  lisp  of  the  Moor  and  sonorous 
gravity  of  the  Goth  :  the  other,  youngest  born  in  the  family  of 
languages,  with  roots  striking  only  in  the  shallow  soil  of  hard 
and  primitive  dialects,  probably  not  a  thousand  years  old  as 
a  separate  tongue,  without  cultivation,  without  letters,  with  no 
abstract  expressions,  and  names  only  for  the  material  and  tan- 
gible, a  harsh  alliance  of  the  nasal  and  guttural,  the  speech  of 
barbarous  mountaineers.  Yet  here  they  are  found  on  the  same 
soil,  struggling  for  the  mastery;  the  Spanish  an  enduring  monu- 
ment to  the  energy  and  bravery  of  the  Castilians  of  the  six- 
teenth century,  who  overran  and  subdued  more  than  half  of 
the  New  World.  Every  time  a  Navajo  says  agua  instead  of 
toh,  he  bears  unwitting  and  involuntary  tribute  to  the  hardy 
vigor  and  bold  intellect  of  that  wonderful  race,  who  carried 
their  arms  and  language,  and  a  fair  share  of  their  arts,  to  the 
most  secluded  portions  of  this  country. 

A  novel  fact  to  me  is,  that  an  Indian  will  "sunburn"  as 
much  or  even  more  than  a  white  man,  taking  on  very  notice- 
able additions  to  his  color  in  four  or  five  days.  John,  my  spe- 
cial guide,  grew  considerably  darker  than  when  we  started  ;  and 
those  who  live  indoors  about  the  Agency  seem  no  more  than 
half  as  dark  as  the  hunters  and  wanderers.  In  fact,  the  more  I 
get  acquainted  with  Indians,  the  more  I  am  convinced  that 
many  of  our  generally  received  notions  about  them  are  quite 
erroneous,  and  continue  to  be  repeated  and  believed  only  because 
they  are  not  authoritatively  contradicted.  For  instance,  it  is  a 
great  mistake  to  suppose  they  can  travel  so  long  without  eating. 
They  do  eat,  three  or  four  times  a  day,  even  on  these  deserts ; 
but  of  various  roots  and  plants  which  a  white  man  would- not 
venture  to  touch.  They  know  the  country,  and  know  what 


INDIAN    ENDURANCE.  641 

roots  are  nourishing  and  what  poisonous.  In  many  places  over 
this  section  between  the  two  Coloradoes  grows  a  species  of 
milky  weed,  with  tough,  stringy  root,  in  taste  resembling  the 
"  sweet  hickory "  the  boys  used  to  pull  and  chew,  along  the 
Wabash.  The  Navajoes  cook  this  in  boiled  milk,  or  with  bacon 
when  at  home,  and  on  journeys  without  supplies  take  it  raw. 
It  contains,  of  course,  very  little  nourishment,  and  on  such  jour- 
neys they  get  "  poor  as  snakes ;  "  but  it  will  keep  soul  and  body 
together,  give  the  stomach  something  to  do  and  prevent  that 
deadly  faintness  which  results  from  complete  fasting.  With  no 
food  whatever,  I  think  an  able-bodied  white  man  would  out- 
last an  Indian.  They  endure  thirst,  though,  better  than  we  do. 
And  the  reason  is  obvious :  their  food  contains  no  salt,  their 
bread  no  chemicals,  they  seldom  have  intoxicating  liquors,  and 
use  little  tobacco.  With  unsalted  bread,  very  little  bacon,  and 
coffee  night  and  morning,  I  soon  found  I  could  go  half  a  day 
or  a  day  without  water  with  no  great  inconvenience.  Nor  do 
they  eat  large  quantities  at  once.  With  three  regular  meals  a 
day  none  of  our  party  ate  as  much  as  myself.  But  after  long 
fasting  they  seem  to  lack,  from  what  I  hear,  the  judgment  to 
restrain  hunger ;  but  the  result  is  quite  as  bad  to  them  as  to 
whites.  This  was  one  cause  of  the  great  mortality  among  the 
Navajoes  when  captured  by  General  Carleton.  They  had  been 
a  purely  pastoral  people,  by  far  the  wealthiest  in  the  mountains, 
and  enjoyed  considerable  abundance.  Ganado  Mucho  alone  had 
a  herd  of  forty  thousand  sheep  and  goats,  all  of  which  were 
bayoneted  by  the  soldiers  in  one  valley,  and  the  Navajoes  sur- 
rendered only  when  compelled  by  famine.  In  this  condition 
they  were  taken  to  the  Bosque  Redondo,  almost  without  food  on 
the  way,  and  there  received  large  rations.  One  man  informed 
me  that  he  had  nine  Navajoes  put  in  his  charge  who  had  traveled 
from  Cafion  de  Chelley  to  Santa  Fe  with  only  a  pint  of  corn  to 
each.  He  issued  them  one  afternoon  ten  days7  rations.  Next 
morning  five  of  the  nine  were  dead.  During  the  war  the  Utes 
cut  down  some  twenty  thousand  peach  trees  in  Peach  Tree 
Cafion.  The  Navajoes  still  suffer  the  results  of  the  policy  then 
pursued,  as  their  herds  are  not  recruited.  It  is  a  pity  this  policy 
41 


642  SAVAGE    QUARANTINE. 

was  necessary,  as  it  has  produced  a  hatred  between  the  tribes 
which  many  years  will  not  assuage.  Only  a  short  time  before,  a 
Navajo  was  killed  in  the  Zuni  village,  in  revenge,  as  alleged,  for 
the  murder  of  two  Zunis.  During  the  war  some  fifty  Navajo 
captives  were  intrusted  for  safe  keeping  to  the  Zunis,  who  cor- 
ralled them  in  their  plaza  for  a  general  feed,  and  then  fell  upon 
and  killed  every  one  of  them. 

The  origin  of  the  venereal  poison  is  a  subject  much  discussed 
by  the  Indians.  Most  of  them  assert  that  they  had  none  of  it 
till  the  Melicanoes  came,  but  the  old  men  admitted  that  cases 
were  introduced,  many  years  ago,  from  Mexico.  The  Coyotero, 
White  Mountaiivand  Mogollon  Apaches  have  never  had  a  case 
of  it.  If  one  of  their  women  offend  with  a  white  man,  her 
nose  and  ears  are  cut  off  and  she  is  made  a  slave.  The  Moquis 
appeared  quite  ignorant  of  the  existence  of  such  a  disease.  The 
Tabequache  Utes  have  a  woman  publicly  whipped  for  infidelity 
with  whites.  If  she  be  found  diseased,  she  is  forthwith  lanced 
and  her  body  burned.  This  savage  quarantine  has  effectually 
preserved  the  tribe,  and  I  supposed  at  first  it  was  for  that  pur- 
pose; but  our  old  men  asserted  that  it  is  rather  an  act  of  mercy 
to  the  woman.  The  Mohaves  are  perishing  rapidly  from  this 
scourge.  The  Navajoes  claim  that  there  is  now  very  little  of  it 
among  them,  and  that  they  treat  most  cases  successfully. 

To  sum  up,  finally,  on  my  Navajo  friends  :  I  am  decidedly  of 
the  opinion  that  they  can  be  civilized,  and  that  the  present 
policy  of  the  Administration  has  been,  and  will  be,  a  perfect 
success  as  applied  to  them.  Their  career,  I  think,  will  be 
somewhat  like  that  of  the  Cherokees,  except  that  they  will  be- 
come cultivators  and  manufacturers  in  much  shorter  time. 
The  great  mistake,  I  think,  in  treating  on  Indian  character  is 
this:  Writers  and  statesmen  ascribe  certain  traits  to  Indians  with- 
out any  distinction,  classing  all  in  one  category ;  while  the  simple 
fact  is,  there  is  a  greater  difference  between  different  tribes  than 
between  the  native  Caucasian  of  Boston  and  the  native  Cau- 
casian of  Hindoostan.  The  Navajo  is  no  more  like  the  Pi-Ede 
or  Pi-Ute  than  the  average  American  is  like  the  Hindoo. 
There  are  tribes  evidently  progressive,  others  stationary,  still 


MOKMONISM    AGAIN.  643 

others  retrograding.  There  are  many  incapable  of  the  slightest 
advance,  and  awaiting  only  a  slow  extinction. 

On  the  other  side  we  talked  at  random,  without  need  of  an 
interpreter.  Mrs.  Doyle,  as  the  lady  called  herself,  was  a 
thorough  frontier  woman,  and  informed  me  that  "  Our  old  gent 
had  had  eighteen  wives.  Two  left  him,  one  went  to  the  States, 
and  another  to  Montana,  and  when  McKean  got  up  such  a 
bobbery,  he  divided  his  property  among  them  that  were  living, 
and  only  regarded  her  and  Rachel,  the  one  up  at  the  ranche, 
toward  Kanab.  Old  gent  had  had  fifty- two  children,  most  of 
'em  living ;  had  been  through  New  Mexico,  and  all  that  coun- 
try, with  the  Mormon  battalion,  and  had  been  a  big  man  in 
the  Church,  but  was  now  here  on  a  mission,  tending  to  this 
ferry.  The  Mormons  will  establish  a  fine  ferry  here  and  a 
good  road,  as  they  intend  to  settle  all  the  good  country  on  the 
other  side,  and  are  now  settling  into  Arizona  as  fast  as  they  can. 
Will  settle  Potato  Valley  first,  then  down  in  the  White  and 
San  Francisco  Mountains,"  etc. 

Her  own  history  was  both  sad  and  interesting.  She  was 
born  in  Brighton,  England,  and  reared  in  London.  Her  folks 
were  well-to-do  English,  and  signs  of  early  education  and 
refinement  showed  plainly  through  the  rough  coating  of  a  fron- 
tier and  Mormon  life.  She  had  embraced  Mormonism  at  the 
age  of  twenty,  and  came  at  once  to  Utah — sixteen  years  before 
— in  the  first  hand-cart  company.  They  got  through  with 
little  suffering.  It  was  the  company  after  that  suffered  so. 
She  "  had  gone  in  second  "  to  Major  Doyle,  by  express  request 
of  Brigham  Young.  They  had  pioneered  all  the  new  towns 
south.  Had  a  fine  place  in  Harmony,  and  sold  it  for  $4000, 
when  ordered  here  on  a  mission.  She  was  living  here,  a  hundred 
miles  from  the  nearest  settlement,  in  the  extreme  of  hardship, 
and  her  folks  begging  her  to  come  to  them.  And  now,  at  the 
end  of  all  these  sacrifices,  a  growing  skepticism  was  evident  in 
her  talk.  It  was  plain  that  she  doubted  seriously  whether  all 
this  had  not  been  vain — worse  than  useless.  She  firmly 
believed  in  polygamy,  she  said,  when  she  came  a  girl  from 
England,  but  not  now ;  there  was  so  much  evil  in  it  that  could 
not  be  from  God. 


644  THE   INDIANS    LEAVE. 

What  must  be  the  agony  of  a  conscientious  soul  which  has 
endured  and  suffered  everything  for  a  faith — a  life-time  of 
sacrifice  for  an  idea — when  convinced  at  last  that  the  idea  is  a 
snare,  the  faith  a  delusion  ?  What  can  result  but  the  blackest 
skepticism,  and  utter  disbelief  in  the  existence  of  true  religion 
on  earth?  Of  all  losses,  property,  honor,  friends,  opportunities, 
what  one  leaves  the  utter  mental  blackness  and  void,  the  com- 
plete despair  and  irreparable  loss  of  the  devotee  who  has  lost 
his  god?  What  wonder  that  recusant  Mormons  are  the  worst 
infidels  in  the  world,  utterly  unapproachable  on  the  subject  of 
religion  ? 

By  the  fourth  day  our  horses  presented  fine  subjects  for  the 
study  of  anatomy,  and  the  patience  of  the  Indians  gave  out. 
They  came  in  a  body  to  request  a  nelsoass — my  certificate  to 
the  Agent  at  Defiance  that  they  had  seen  me  safe  across  the 
Colorado.  This  I  furnished,  and  all  the  cheese  and  meat  Mrs. 
Doyle  could  spare ;  and  at  3  P.  M.,  they  began  the  toilsome 
journey  up  the  cliffs.  I  watched  them  out  of  sight  with 
regret;  for  the  simple  aborigines  had  been  more  company  for 
me  than  I  could  have  imagined  possible.  In  three  hours  after 
their  departure,  Major  Doyle  returned,  and  next  morning  we 
crossed  my  horse  without  difficulty. 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

FIVE    HUNDRED    MILES    OF    MORMONS. 

An  astonishing  revelation — "  Major  Doyle  "  becomes  John  D.  Lee,  of  Mountain 
Meadow  notoriety — He  relates  his  version  of  that  affair — Comments — Why 
verdict  "  Guilty" — Off  for  the  settlements — Jacob's  Pool — Long,  dry  ride — 
— The  Pi-Utes — Into  Kanab — Jacob  Hamlin — Major  Powell's  party — Pipe 
Springs  —  Gould's  Ranche — Virgen  City — Toquerville — Kanawa  —  Into  the 
Great  Basin — Beaver — The  "Jerky" — An  old  comrade — Fillmore — "  Cutting 
off" — Staging — An  unconscious  joke — Arrival  at  Salt  Lake  City — Surprise  of 
my  friends. 

WAS  out  of  the  wilderness  and  across  the  river ;  but 
still  a  hundred  miles  from  the  nearest  settlement,  and 
five  hundred  miles  from  Salt  Lake  City.  But  a  surprise 
of  no  ordinary  kind  was  in  store  for  me.  Having  been 
four  days  at  "  Major  Doyle's,"  his  wife  told  me  so  much 
of  his  travels  and  labors  for  the  Church,  that  I  wondered  at 
never  having  heard  of  him  in  the  history  of  Utah.  At  supper, 
on  the  3d  instant,  I  casually  inquired  if  he  knew  of  such  a  man 
in  this  vicinity  as  John  D.  Lee,  for  the  agent  had  informed  me 
I  must  cross  at  Lee's  Ferry.  "  That,"  he  replied,  "  is  what  they 
sometimes  call  me."  "What!"  I  exclaimed,  "I  thought  your 
name  was  Doyle."  "So  it  is,"  said  he,  "John  Doyle  Lee." 

I  almost  jumped  out  of  my  chair  with  astonishment,  not 
unmixed  with  a  feeling  of  confusion.  Here  I  was  the  guest  of, 
and  in  social  intercourse  with,  the  most  notorious  of  all  notorious 
Mormons — the  man  most  hated,  shunned  and  despised  by  Gen- 
tiles— John  D.  Lee,  the  reputed- planner  and  leader  in  the 
Mountain  Meadow  massacre  !  My  surprise  was  too  sudden  to  be 
concealed,  and  I  blundered  out:  "I  have  often  heard  of  you." 
"  I  suppose  so,  and  heard  nothing  that  was  good,  I  reckon,"  was 
the  reply,  with  some  bitterness  of  tone :  "  Yes,  I  told  my  wives 

645 


646  MOUNTAIN   MEADOW   MASSACRE. 

to  call  me  Doyle  to  strangers;  they've  been  kicking  up  such  a 
muss  about  polygamy,  McKean  and  them,  and  I'm  a  man  that's 
had  eighteen  wives ;  but  now  the  Supreme  Court  has  decided 
that  polygamy's  part  of  a  man's  religion,  and  the  law's  got 
nothin'  to  do  with  it;  it  don't  make  no  difference,  I  reckon." 

Of  course  this  was  only  a  subterfuge,  but  I  could  not  have 
ventured  to  recur  to  the  real  reason  of  his  being  hidden,  as  it 
were  in  this  wild  place,  if  he  had  not  approached  the  subject 
himself  soon  after.  Then  I  hinted  as  delicately  as  possible,  that 
if  it  were  not  disagreeable  to  him,  I  should  like  to  hear  "  the 
true  account  of  that  affair  which  had  been  the  cause  of  his  name 
being  so  prominent."  It  had  grown  dark,  meanwhile,  and  this 
gave  him,  I  thought  more  freedom  in  his  talk.  (It  is  to  be 
noted  that  he  did  not  know  my  name  or  business.)  Clearing  his 
throat  nervously,  he  began,  with  many  short  stops  and 
repetitions: 

"Well,  suppose  you  mean  that — well,  that  Mountain  Med- 
der  affair  ?  Well,  I'll  tell  you  what  is  the  exact  truth  of  it,  as 
God  is  my  Judge,  and  the  why  I  am  out  here  like  an  outlaw — 
but  I'm  a  goin'  to  die  like  a  man,  and  not  be  choked  like  a  dog 
— and  why  my  name's  published  all  over  as  the  vilest  man  in 
Utah,  on  account  of  what  others  did — but  I  never  will  betray 
my  brethren,  no,  never — which  it  is  told  for  a  sworn  fact  that 
I  violated  two  girls  as  they  were  kneeling  and  begging  to  me 
for  life ;  but  as  God  is  my  Judge,  and  I  expect  to  stand  before 
Him,  it  is  all  an  infernal  lie." 

He  ran  off  this  and  much  more  of  the  sort  with  great  volu- 
bility;  then  seemed  to  grow  more  calm,  and  went  on : 

"Now,  sir,  I'll  give  you  the  account  exactly  as  it  stood, 
though  for  years  I've  rested  under  the  most  infamous  charges 
ever  cooked  up  on  a  man.  I've  had  to  move  from  point  to 
point,  and  lost  my  property,  when  I  might  have  cleared  it  up 
any  time  by  just  saying  who  was  who.  I  eould  have  proved 
that  I  was  not  there,  but  not  without  bringing  in  other  men  to 
criminate  them.  But  I  wouldn't  do  it.  They  had  trusted  in 
me,  and  their  motives  were  good  at  the  start,  bad  as  the  thing 
turned  out. 


047 


648  PROFANE    AND    WICKED    EMIGRANTS. 

"  But  about  the  emigrants.  They  was  the  worst  set  that  ever 
crossed  the  Plains,  and  they  made  it  so  as  to  get  here  just  when 
we  was  at  war.  Old  Buchanan  had  sent  his  army  to  destroy  us, 
and  we  had  made  up  our  minds  that  they  should  not  find  any 
spoil.  We  had  been  making  preparations  for  two  years,  drying 
wheat  and  caching  it  in  the  mountains;  and  intended,  when 
worst  come  to  worst,  to  burn  and  destroy  everything,  and  take 
to  the  mountains  and  fight  it  out  guerilla  style.  And  I  tell  you 
this  people  was  all  hot  and  enthusiastic,  and  just  at  that  time 
these  emigrants  came. 

"  Now  they  acted  more  like  devils  than  men  ;  and  just  to  give 
you  an  idea  what  a  hard  set  they  was :  when  Dr.  Forney 
gathered  up  the  children  two  years  after — fifteen,  I  believe, 
they  was — and  sent  word  back  to  their  relatives,  they  sent 
word  that  they  didn't  want  'em,  and  wouldn't  have  anything  to 
do  with  'em.  And  that  old  Dr.  Forney  treated  the  children 
like  dogs,  hammerin'  'ern  around  with  his  big  cane. 

"  The  company  had  quarreled  and  separated  east  of  the  moun- 
tains, but  it  was  the  biggest  half  that  come  first.  They  come 
south  o'  Salt  Lake  City  just  as  all  the  men  was  going  out  to  the 
war,  and  lots  of  women  and  children  lonely.  Their  conduct 
was  scandalous.  They  swore  and  boasted  openly  that  they 
helped  shoot  the  guts  out  of  Joe  Smith  and  Hyrum  Smith,  at 
Carthage,  and  that  Buchanan's  whole  army  was  coming  right 
behind  them,  and  would  kill  every  G — d  d — n  Mormon  in 

Utah,  and  make  the  women  and  children  slaves  and 

They  had  two  bulls,  which  they  called  one  'Heber'  and  the 
other  '  Brigham,'  and  whipped  'em  thro'  every  town,  yelling 
and  singing,  blackguarding  and  blaspheming  oaths  that  would 
have  made  your  hair  stand  on  end.  At  Spanish  Fork — it  can 
be  proved — one  of  'em  stood  on  his  wagon  tongue,  and  swung 
a  pistol,  and  swore  that  he  helped  kill  old  Joe  Smith  and  was 
ready  for  old  Brigham,  Young,  and  all  sung  a  blackguard  song, 
( O,  we've  got  the  ropes  and  we'll  hang  old  Brigham  before  the 
snow  flies,'  and  all  such  stuff.  Well,  it  was  mighty  hard  to 
bear,  and  when  they  got  to  where  the  Pahvant  Indians  was 
they  shot  one  of  them  dead  and  crippled  another.  But  the 


INDIANS    ADVISED   TO   PUNISH    THEM.  649 

worst 's  a  comin'.  At  Corn  Creek,  just  this  side  o'  Fillrnore, 
they  poisoned  a  spring,  and  the  flesh  of  an  ox  that  died  there, 
they  poisoned  that — anyhow  it  was  poisoned,  may  be  at  the 
spring — and  they  give  it  to  the  Indians,  and  some  few  of  them 
died.  Then  the  widow  Tomlinson,  just  this  side,  had  an  ox 
poisoned  that  died ;  and  she  thought  to  save  the  hide  and  taller, 
and  renderin'  it  up  the  poison  got  in  her  face,  and  it  swelled  up 
and  she  died.  And  her  son  come  near  dyin',  too.  This,  you 
know,  roused  everybody.  They  come  on  down  the  road,  and 
with  their  big  Missouri  whips  would  snap  off  the  heads  of 
chickens  and  throw  'em  into  their  wagons ;  and  at  the  next 
town  there  was  the  widow  Evans  come  out  and  said,  '  Don't 
kill  my  chickens,  gentlemen ;  I'm  a  poor  woman/  And  the 

man  yelled,  'Shut  up,  you  G — d  d — n  Mormon ,  or  I'll 

shoot  you/  Then  her  sons  and  all  her  folks  got  out  and  swore 
they'd  have  revenge  on  the  whole  outfit. 

"  But  the  Indians  had  gathered  and  was  followin'  'em  close, 
and  at  Mountain  Meadow  overtook  'em.  Then  came  the  coun- 
cil with  us,  and  all  asked,  'What  shall  we  do?'  I  was  sent 
for  and  said,  '  Persuade  the  Indians  away ;'  but  I  was  overruled, 
and  the  council  said,  'Let  the  Indians  punish  them.' 

"  They  had  gathered  from  every  direction  ;  all  the  bands  were 
out  for  hundreds  of  miles,  and  they  planned  it  to  crawl  down 
a  deep,  narrow  ravine,  and  get  in  close,  then  make  a  sudden 
rush  altogether.  But  some  men  was  up  about  the  fire,  and  the 
dogs  kept  up  such  a  barking  that  they  knew  Indians  were 
about,  and  one  fool  Indian  off  on  the  peak  fired  his  gun  and 
killed  one  emigrant,  and  give  the  alarm.  This  spoilt  their 
plan,  but  all  in  reach  fired  and  killed,  well,  five  or  six  men; 
but  the  Indians  did  not  make  a  charge.  Then  a  sort  of  regular 
siege  begun,  and  lasted  several  days.  The  fellows  inside  done 
well — the  best  they  could  have  done.  They  got  the  wagons 
corralled,  and  dug  rifle-pits.  The  Indians  couldn't  get  any 
more  of  them,  but  shot  their  stock,  killed  all  their  cattle  and 
nearly  all  their  horses.  I  believe  it  was  after  three  or  four 
days  that  I  went  to  the  Indians  and  tried  to  persuade  them. 
Says  I,  '  You've  certainly  killed  as  many  of  them  as  died  of 


650  THE    MASSACRE. 

your  pen,  and  you've  harassed  them  a  good  deal,  killed  their 
stock  and  punished  them  enough — now  let  them  go/  But  they 
said  these  white  men  were  all  bad  and  they  would  kill  all. 
Jacob  Hamlin,  the  agent,  you  know,  was  away  from  home  then, 
and  I  hadn't  much  control  over  the  Indians.  We  was  weak 
then  in  that  section  to  what  we  are  now,  and  did  not  really  have 
the  upper  hand  of  the  Indians ;  and  may  be,  if  we  interfered 
with  'em,  it  would  cause  trouble  with  us.  I  heard  women 
inside  begging  and  praying,  and  saying  that  if  the  Mormons 
knew  how  they  were  situated  they  would  come  and  help,  no 
matter  if  some  had  treated  'em  badly.  And  they  begged  some 
of  the  fellows  to  break  out  and  go  and  get  help.  Then  I  run 
a  big  risk  to  get  inside  the  com*/.  It  was  pitch  dark,  and  I 
could  see  the  line  of  fire  from  the  guns,  and  the  balls  whistled 
all  about  me.  One  cut  my  shirt  in  front,  and  another  my 
sleeve,  and  I  could  not  get  through.  But  I  went  back,  and 
was  pretty  near  getting  the  Indians  all  right,  and  would  have 
succeeded  fully,  but  then  come  the  thing  that  spoiled  all. 

"  Three  of  the  emigrants  had  broken  out  of  the  corral  and 
gone  back  for  help ;  and  next  day  met  some  of  our  boys  at  a 
spring.  Well,  I  don't  excuse  our  men — they  were  enthusiastic, 
you  know,  but  their  motives  were  good.  They  knew  these 
emigrants  at  once;  one  of  them  was  the  man  that  insulted 
widow  Evans,  another  the  one  that  swung  his  pistol  and  talked 
so  at  Spanish  Fork.  The  boys  fell  on  them  at  sight,  shot  one 
dead  and  wounded  another.  But  the  two  of  them  got  back  to 
the  company. 

"  Then  came  another  council,  and  all  our  men  said :  '  We 
can't  let  'em  go  now ;  the  boys  has  killed  some,  and  it  won't  do 
to  let  one  get  through  alive,  or  here  they'll  come  back  on* us 
with  big  reinforcements.'  And,  to  be  sure,  why  should  we  risk 
anything,  and  may  be  have  a  fuss  with  the  Indians,  to  save 
people  who  done  nothing  but  abuse  us?  But  I  still  said,  i  Let 
'em  go;  they've  been  punished  enough.' 

"  I  never  will  mention  any  names,  or  betray  my  brethren. 
Those  men  were  God-fearing  men.  Their  motives  were  pure. 
They  knelt  down  and  prayed  to  be  guided  in  council.  But 


INDIAN    BARBARITY.  651 

they  was  full  of  zeal.  Their  zeal  was  greater  than  their  know- 
ledge. 

"  I  went  once  more  to  the  Indians,  and  begged  them  to  kill 
only  the  men.  They  said  they  would  kill  every  one :  then  I 
told  them  I  would  buy  all  the  children,  so  all  the  children  was 
saved.  There  was  not  over  fifteen  white  men  actually  went  in 
with  the  Indians,  and  I  don't  believe  a  single  emigrant  was 
actually  killed  by  a  white  man. 

"An  express  had  been  sent  to  Brigham  Young  at  first  to 
know  what  to  do,  and  it  is  a  pity  it  didn't  get  back  ;  for  those 
enthusiastic  men  will  obey  counsel.  The  President  sent  back 
orders,  and  told  the  man  to  ride  night  and  day,  by  all  means  to 
let  the  emigrants  go  on;  to  call  off  the  Indians,  and  for  no 
Mormons  to  molest  them.  But  the  thing  was  all  over  before 
the  express  got  back  to  Provo.  There  was  about  eighty  fighting 
men  that  was  killed.  I  don't  know  how  many  women,  though 
not  many.  All  the  children  was  saved.  The  little  boy  that 
lived  with  us  cried  all  night  when  he  left  us,  and  said  he'd 
come  back  to  us  as  soon  as  he  got  old  enough.  Old  Forney, 
when  he  come  for  'em,  got  all  in  his  tent  and  would  not  let  'em 
visit  or  say  good-by  to  anybody.  One  run  away  and  hid  under 
the  floor  of  the  house,  and  Forney  dragged  him  out  and  beat 
him  like  a  dog  with  his  cane.  They  say  he  murdered  the  baby 
on  the  plains,  because  it  was  sickly  and  troublesome. 

"  It  is  told  around  for  a  fact  that  I  could  tell  great  confes- 
sions, and  bring  in  Brigham  Young  and  the  Heads  of  the  Church. 
But  if  I  was  to  make  forty  confessions,  I  could  not  bring  in 
Brigham  Young.  His  counsel  was :  '  By  all  means  let  them 
go;  don't  hurt  a  hair  of  their  heads." 

Mr.  Lee  continued  with  a  full  account  of  General  Carleton's 
visit,  and  Judge-  Cradlebaugh's  inquiry  into  the  matter,  as  well 
as  his  meeting  and  conversation  with  Dr.  Forney ;  all  interest- 
ing, but  too  long  for  repetition.  We  had  talked  until  midnight, 
when  we  turned  in  together  upon  the  straw  near  the  house. 

Such  is  Lee's  account  of  the  dreadful  occurrence  at  Mountain 
Meadow.  The  reader  will  no  doubt  perceive  the  inconsistencies 
in  it,  It  is,  inherently,  most  improbable  that  a  people  of  the 


652  WHO   PLANNED   THE    MASSACRE? 

wealth  and  social  standing  that  company  is  known  to  have 
been,  would  have  acted  in  the  manner  described ;  and  particu- 
larly in  the  enemy's  country,  as  Utah  then  was.  It  is  too  well 
proven,  also,  that  all  the  Pahvants  in  Utah  could  never  have 
captured  eighty  white  men  without  help.  But  it  appears  that 
in  all  conscience  he  has  confessed  enough.  That  there  were 
some  Mormons  in  it,  and  that  all  the  community  consented  to 
it,  is  an  admitted  fact.  And  what  fearful  hints  as  to  the  dan- 
gerous character  of  the  Mormon  religion  do  these  words  of  Lee's 

give:  "I  will  never  betray  my  brethren I  do  not  judge 

them.  They  were  God-fearing  men.  Their  motives  were  pure. 
They  knelt  and  prayed  to  be  guided  in  council !" 

Kneel  and  pray  to  the  Mormon  God,  and  then  join  the 
Indians  to  murder  Gentiles!  "Those  enthusiastic  men  will 
obey  council."  If  Brigham  said,  "  Let  them  go,"  it  should 
have  been  done.  But  if  he  had  said  in  any  case,  "  Kill  all," 
the  conclusion  is  irresistible  that  the  killing  would  have  fol- 
lowed. Are  a  people  fit  for  a  State  Government  where  one 
man,  without  official  position,  claims  to  hold  the  keys  of  life 
and  death,  and  has  his  claim  recognized  ? 

Another  confession  :  Like  the  Lee  family,  I  had  dropped  my 
last  name  and  taken  my  second,  and  traveled  to  the  central  part 
of  Utah  as  "Mr.  Hanson."  I  did  not  exactly  know  what  pre- 
judices some  of  these  people  might  have  against  my  other  name, 
and  it  is  as  well  to  be  on  the  safe  side. 

The  evidence  in  the  Mountain  Meadow  case  is  now  devel- 
oped, and  the  whole  affair  is  plain.  That  Major  John  D.  Lee, 
Colonel  J.  Dame,  Bishop  Isaac  C.  Haight  and  the  under 
officers,  both  military  and  ecclesiastical,  ordered  out  the  militia, 
surrounded  the  emigrants,  induced  them  to  surrender  and  then 
allowed  the  Indians  to  massacre  them,  is  as  plainly  proven  as 
any  case  can  be  by  human  testimony.  It  is  well  known,  too, 
that  they  came  together  "  under  a  regular  military  call  from  the 
superior  officers ;"  and  the  few  who  refused  state  that  they  did 
so  knowing  they  subjected  themselves  to  punishment  for  mutiny. 
It  is  also  proved  that  John  D.  Lee  gave  a  full  report  of  the 
matter  to  Brigham  Young,  Governor  and  Superintendent  of  In- 


CLIMATE.  653 

dian  Affairs,  in  the  house  of  Apostle  E.  T.  Benson  in  Salt 
Lake  City.* 

If  John  D.  Lee  has  committed  no  crime,  why  is  he  hiding  in 
a  desert,  a  hundred  miles  out  of  the  jurisdiction  of  Utah  Courts, 
where  he  can  take  horse  and  boat  any  minute  and  in  three  hours 
be  among  wild  Indians  in  alliance  with  the  Mormons?  Is  it 
because  his  high-toned  honor  forbids  him  to  "  bear  witness 
against  his  brethren?"  Bosh! 

At  sunrise  of  Independence  Day  I  bade  the  Lees  good-bye, 
and  struck  southwest  and  down  the  Colorado,  to  get  to  the 
plateau  and  trail  leading  to  Kanab.  At  Lees,  in  the  mouth  of 
Pahreah  Canon,  is  the  only  spot  on  the  Colorado,  for  three 
hundred  miles,  where  there  is  open  land  enough  to  make  a  farm 
or  support  a  ferry.  He  has  a  rich  flat,  shut  in  above  and  below 
by  precipitous  cliffs  of  red  sandstone.  The  climate  is  singularly 
mild  and  pleasant.  The  summers  are  not  hot,  except  when  a 
southeast  wind  blows  the  air  back  into  the  canon  ;  then  it  be- 
comes stagnant  and  sultry.  The  winters  are  so  warm  that 
wheat  can  be  sown  at  any  time  within  the  three  months,  accord- 
ing to  the  amount  of  rain.  The  Mormons  have  taken  measures 
to  construct  a  wagon  road  to  the  ferry,  and  for  cutting  out  a 
rock  way  .on  the  other  side,  to  enable  them  to  get  up  to  the 
main  plateau  of  northern  Arizona.  They  informed  me  that  a 
large  body  of  Mormons  would  be  "  called  on  a  mission  "  soon 
to  settle  the  first  convenient  valley  on  the  other  side,  from  which 
they  will  extend  rapidly  down  to  the  great  Sinoita  (Sin-o-ee-ta) 
Valley,  northwest  of  Prescott,  which  has  since  been  done.  I 
am  told  by  Arizona  men  that  that  valley  has  been  settled  three 
times  by  Americans  and  Mexicans,  each  time  driven  out  by  the 
Apaches ;  and  that  they  will  be  delighted  to  have  the  Mormons 
take  possession  of  it.  It  is  reported  as  ample  for  the  support 
of  fifty  thousand  people.  The  grand  cailon  of  the  Colorado 
may  be  said  to  commence  some  five  miles  below  Mr.  Lee's,  but 
between  the  river  and  the  main  line  of  the  Wasatch  Mountains 
extends  a  plateau,  widening  toward  the  west,  rich  in  pasture 

*  See  Stenhouse's  "  Rocky  Mountain  Saints,"  chapter  xliii. 


654  PERILOUS    DESCENT    OF    THE    RAPIDS. 

and  with  two  or  three  spots  of  cultivable  land.  Some  three 
weeks  before  three  miners  had  constructed  a  raft  above  Lee's 
place,  and  attempted  to  run  down  the  river,  examining  the  bars 
as  they  went.  The  raft  was  dashed  to  pieces  in  the  rapids  three 
miles  below  where  I  made  my  perilous  crossing,  and  the  men 
narrowly  escaped  with  their  lives.  They  were  so  near  the 
northern  shore  that  the  first  eddy  enabled  them  to  reach  it. 
Here  they  found  themselves  under  an  apparently  inaccessible 
cliff.  They  dived  and  brought  up  their  tools,  and  from  drift 
wood  and  such  portions  of  the  raft  as  they  could  save,  con- 
structed ladders,  and  climbing  with  them  from  cliff  to  cliff,  got 
back  to  Lee's  after  three  days'  starvation.  Around  the  point 
of  the  mountain,  above  the  cliff  they  climbed,  a  trail  leads  up 
to  the  plateau,  which  I  traveled.  I  hurried  through  the  fifteen 
miles  to  the  first  gulch  containing  water  and  grass,  where  I 
rested  till  2  P.  M.  Thence  over  another  barren  mesa  twenty 
miles  brought  me  to  Jacob's  Pool,  where  the  pasture  lands  be- 
gin. The  pool  is  a  clear,  cold  spring,  at  the  head  of  a  gulch, 
sending  out  a  stream  the  size  of  one's  wrist,  which  runs  two  or 
three  hundred  yards  down  the  plain  before  it  disappears.  The 
largest  mountain  streams  in  this  section  never  run  more  than  a 
mile  or  two  on  to  the  plain.  In  some  places  a  channel  can  be 
traced  nearly  to  the  Colorado.  The  Wasatch  here  has  an  aver- 
age elevation  of  five  thousand  feet  above  this  plateau ;  from  the 
mountains  the  country  is  tolerably  level  out  to  the  river,  which 
runs  in  another  narrow  gorge  some  four  thousand  feet  deep. 
There  are  three  places  in  a  hundred  miles  where  horses  and 
footmen  can  get  down  through  side  gulches  to  the  river. 

John  D.  Lee  has  pre-empted  the  pool,  and  has  his  wife 
Rachel  living  there  in  a  sort  of  brush  tent,  making  butter  and 
cheese  from  a  herd  of  twenty  cows.  She  and  her  son  and 
daughter  of  sixteen  and  eighteen  years  were  the  sole  inhabitants, 
no  neighbors  within  less  than  forty  miles  either  way.  Lee's 
other  wives  are  scattered  about  on  ranches  farther  north ;  four 
at  Mangrum's  settlement  and  two  others  at  Harmony.  One 
left  him  and  lives  at  Beaver;  another  went  to  Montana  with  a 
Gentile,  and  still  another  is  in  the  States,  "  living  fancy,  I 


655 


reckon,"  said  the  wife  at  the  river,  who  showed  me  her  portrait 
and  gave*me  all  this  information,  as  if  it  were  a  matter  of  ordi- 
nary news.  I  found  this  wife  at  the  Pool  like  the  one  at  the 
river,  favorable  to  the  Gentiles  and  a  disbeliever  in  polygamy. 
There  was  no  room  in  the  tent,  and  she  gave  me  a  straw  tick 
out  doors,  which  was  luxury  enough  for  one  who  had  had  only 
a  blanket  between  him  and  the  ground  for  weeks. 

The  occasion  was  suggestive.  As  I  looked  around  on  the 
willow  walls  of  the 
brush-covered  wick- 
iup, the  hot  sun 
shining  in  through 
on  the  paper  as  I 
attempted  to  write ; 
marked  the  general 
out-door  air  of  pov- 
erty and  misery,  and 
took  my  scanty 
meals  of  milk  and 
cheese,  with  an  al- 
lowance of  one  bis- 
cuit, I  could  but  say 
to  myself:  This  is 
one  of  the  effects  of 
polygamy.  Those 
who  are  still  dis- 
posed to  apologize 
for  Mor  monism 
should  have  seen 
this  sight.  Men 
from  Washington^ 
who  make  a  three 
days'  visit  to  Salt 

Lake  City,  see  about  as  much  of  polygamy  as  a  visitor  in 
the  olden  time  to  one  of  the  best  families  of  Louisville  saw 
of  African  slavery.  Here  is  a  man  with  eleven  wives,  scat- 
tered about  on  ranches  like  so  many  cattle.  Let  the  man 


AT  JACOB'S  POOL. 


656  EVILS   OF   POLYGAMY. 

be  ever  so  good  and  kind,  ten  of  these  women  must  be  living  as 
widows  all  the  time,  and  their  children  as  orphans.  One  of  the 
strongest  and  most  often  repeated  arguments  of  the  Mormons  is, 
that  polygamy  is  much  less  of  an  evil  than  the  Gentile  prosti- 
tution. I  flatly  confess  that  I  don't  think  so.  Prostitution 
stops  with  the  one  victim,  polygamy  rears  a  generation  to  suffer 
its  evils;  prostitution  affects  only  the  guilty;  the  direst  woes  of 
polygamy  fall  on  the  innocent — the  women  and  children ;  the 
former  takes  one  in  a  hundred,  the  latter  degrades  the  whole 
sex ;  the  former  has  coexisted,  and  continues,  with  the  highest 
civilization  in  the  most  advanced  nations,  while  the  latter  is 
invariably  the  practice  of  barbarians  and  retrograde  races.  Of 
the  two  evils,  bad  as  the  other  is,  polygamy  is  by  far  the  worst. 
From  Jacob's  Pool,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  5th,  I  rode  eigh- 
teen miles  nearly  straight  west  to  the  first  water,  and  camped 
for  the  night  in  the  midst  of  splendid  pasture.  I  was  off  as 
soon  as  there  was  light  enough  to  travel,  as  it  was  thirty  miles 
to  Navajo  Wells,  the  next  place  where  water  could  be  had. 
This  is  the  original  Navajo  trail  from  New  Mexico  to  the  set- 
tlements on  Virgen  River.  A  few  miles  from  the  spring  I 
commenced  the  ascent  of  the  "  Buckskin,"  a  low  range  of  par- 
tially wooded  hills,  putting  out  across  the  plateau  nearly  to  the 
Colorado.  All  over  this  I  found  good  blue  grass,  which  is  very 
rare  everywhere  in  the  Rocky  Mountains.  The  grass  on  the 
plains  here  consists  of  two  species  of  bunch  grass,  the  common 
yellow  and  the  white-topped  varieties.  The  last  is  by  far  the 
richest,  the  top  containing  a  small  black  seed  which,  with  its 
husk,  is  considered  as  nutritious  as  grain.  But  neither  of  these 
grasses  form  a  sod  or  sward,  or  give  more  than  a  faint  tinge  of 
green  to  the  landscape.  My  general  direction  for  the  day  was 
northwest,  working  toward  the  Utah  line,  though  the  road  at 
times  wound  about  to  every  point.  West  of  the  "  Buckskin  " 
was  a  singular  flood  plain  some  six  miles  wide,  with  rich  soil 
but  no  moisture,  and  nearly  destitute  of  grass.  I  had  traveled 
till  3  P.  M.,  looking  closely  for  Navajo  Wells  for  the  last  few 
miles,  when  I  emerged  from  a  rocky  ridge  scantily  clothed  with 
pifions  upon  another  flood  plain,  and  was  at  once  aware  that  I 


OBJECTIONABLE   WATER. 


657 


had  missed  the  wells.    I  had  seen  no  signs  of  water  and  no  trail 
leading  to  any.     From  the  last  spring  to  Kanab  was  forty-five 
miles,  a  rather  long  stage  for  my  horse  without  water ;  but  there 
seemed   no  other  chance,  and   I  hurried  him  on.     I  had  made 
two  miles  or  more  from  the  ridge  when  I*  heard  a  shout,  and 
looking  back,  saw  a  miserable  looking  Piute  coming  with  his 
horse  at  full  gallop  after  me.     I  shouted  toh,  agua,  water,  in  the 
three  languages  used  in  Arizona,  but  he  failed  to  comprehend 
either.       By   panto- 
mime 1  gave  him  to 
understand  that  my 
horse    had    had   no 
water  since  sunrise. 
He  exclaimed,  "pah 
to      wickiup"     and 
whirling    his    horse, 
directed    me  to  fol- 
low.      Two    miles 
back,  and  half  a  mile 
from    my  trail,  was 
the  water  hole,  and 
by  it  the  brush  camp 
of  his  tribe,  a  horri- 
bly filthy  and  repul- 
sive  gang   of   some 
forty    savages.       A 
barrel  sunk  in  a  low 
place    in    the    sand 
formed    the   spring, 
from     which     there 
was  no  stream.    The 

water  was  lukewarm,  green,  slimy,  and  full  of  vile  pollywogs*. 
The  chief  brought  an  old  copper  kettle,  which  my  horse 
emptied  three  times.  I  indulged  in  a  half  pint,  after  straining 
it  through  a  handkerchief.  For  this  courtesy,  I  divided  my 
stock  of  meat  and  cheese  with  the  chief,  who  suddenly  became 
rather  communicative,  preferred  a  request  for  tobacco,  and 
42 


HAPPY  FAMILY  " — TJTES. 


658  DISPUTING   ON    MORMONISM. 

asked  in  broken  English  and  signs  how  many  days  I  had  been 
in  coming  from  the  Navajo  wickiups?  They  had  at  first  sight 
recognized  my  lariat,  moccasins,  and  beaded  scarf  and  pouch  as 
Navajo  work.  Each  tribe  in  the  mountains  knows  the  work 
of  every  other  tribe,  even  when  a  thousand  miles  distant.  The 
Indians  native  to  this  region  are  of  three  tribes,  known  as  the 
Pi-Utes,  the  Pi-Edes  and  the  Lee-Biches,  and  are  the  very 
lowest  of  the  race.  In  summer  they  fare  sumptuously  on 
piiion  nuts,  roots,  grass  seeds  and  white  sage;  but  in  winter 
they  are  reduced  to  bugs,  lizards,  grubs  and  ground  mice,  occa- 
sionally assisted  by  donations  from  the  settlements,  or  the  flesh 
of  such  Mormon  stock  as  die  of  disease.  They  are  totally 
devoid  of  skill  in  any  respect,  and  when  furnished  with  boards 
can  not  construct  a  shelter  from  the  rain. 

Eight  miles  farther,  I  camped  for  the  night ;  was  off,  by 
reason  of  the  cold,  an  hour  before  daylight,  and  rode  into 
Kanab  just  as  the  first  rays  of* sunshine  were  streaming  over 
the  rugged  gaps  of  the  eastern  mountains.  Kanab  sits  back  in 
a  beautiful  cove  in  the  mountains,  something  like  a  crescent  in 
shape,  the  mountain's  peaks  east  and  west  of  the  town  putting 
out  southward  to  the  Arizona  line.  All  the  land  within  the 
cove  appears  rich,  and  the  town  site  is  irrigated  from  a  con- 
siderable creek  running  out  of  a  narrow  gulch.  By  direction 
of  the  first  person  met,  I  went  to  Jacob  Humlin's  house,  where 
I  had  two  days'  rest.  I  was  most  fortunate  in  my  selection. 
Three  of  Major  Powell's  men  were  here,  waiting  for  his  arrival 
from  Salt  Lake  City.  Here,  also,  I  found  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Thomson,  of  Major  Powell's  party ;  so  altogether  we  had  a 
very  delightful  little  Gentile  society  in  this  Mormon  stronghold. 
Harnlin,  who  is  a  Church  Agent  of  Indian  Affairs,  struck  it  on 
the  subject  of  Mormonism  the  first  rneal ;  but  as  I  was  once 
more  in  the  land  of  beef  and  biscuit,  hot  coffee  and  other 
luxuries,  I  could  stand  up  to  any  amount  of  argument.  We 
had  it  hot  for  two  days,  but  parted  friends.  Kanab  is  quite 
new,  and  has  but  two  hundred  inhabitants.  To  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Thomson,  I  am  under  many  obligations,  not  only  for  writing 
conveniences,  but  for  many  hours  of  social  enjoyment ;  and  as 


PIPE   SPRINGS.  659 

to  the  Powell  party  generally,  I  consider  my  meeting  them 
here  a  rare  piece  of  good  fortune. 

The  road  from  Kanab  to  Salt  Lake  City  is  a  most  incon- 
venient series  of  roundabouts,  running  to  every  point  of  the 
compass  to  make  a  general  course  around  two  sides  of  a  very 
elongated  triangle.  From  Kanab  there  is  a  trail  straight  north 
over  the  mountains,  which  would  bring  one  to  the  head  of 
Sevier  River,  a  route  one  hundred  miles  shorter  than  my  route; 
but  it  was  unsafe  from  hostile  Utes. 

Late,  afternoon  of  July  8th,  I  rode  twenty  miles  southwest 
to  Pipe  Springs — nine  miles  over  the  border  into  Arizona. 
The  two  stone  houses  at  that  place  were  built  nine  years  before, 
as  a  sort  of  fort  and  residence ;  but  abandoned  soon  after,  on 
account  of  Indian  troubles,  and  only  lately  re-occupied  by 
Bishop  Windsor  and  one  of  his  families.  I  reached  the  place 
after  dark,  and  found  the  Bishop  a  good  landlord,  and  chatty, 
agreeable  companion.  The  spring  from  which  the  place  takes 
its  name  sends  down  a  large  stream  of  cold,  clear  water,  which 
the  Bishop  leads  in  stone  troughs  through  his  houses,  using  one 
of  them  for  a  cheese  factory.  He  milks  eighty  cows,  and  makes 
the  business  a  splendid  success.  All  this  section  is  rich  in  pas- 
ture, but  has  so  little  arable  land  that  most  of  the  few  inhabit- 
ants have  to  import  their  flour,  paying  for  it  in  butter  and 
cheese.  Even  with  this  large  stream,  the  Bishop  can  cultivate 
but  fifteen  acres,  the  porous,  sandy  soil  requiring  five  times  as 
much  irrigation  as  the  land  around  Salt  Lake  City.  The  place 
is  just  outside  the  rim  of  the  Great  Basin,  and  the  country 
about  of  the  same  level  as  that  within.  From  the  foot  of  the 
mountain  range  along  which  we  travel,  the  surface  slopes  a  very 
little  toward  the  Colorado,  but  near  that  river  rises  again  to  a 
hight  above  that  along  the  road. 

The  road  from  Pipe  Springs  was  so  sandy  that  I  did  not 
reach  the  next  ranche  and  water — twenty-five  miles — till  4 
p.  M.,  and  after  supper  made  nine  miles  farther  by  night, 
camping  in  a  low,  rich  valley  between  two  wooded  hills. 
Thence  I  reached  Gould's  ranche,  ten  miles,  in  time  for  a  9 
o'clock  breakfast,  and  another  hot  argument  on  Mormon  poli- 


660 


VIKGEX   CITY. 


KANARRA— SOUTHERN   UTAH. 

tics.  Just  then  the  Mormon  mind  was  set  on  getting  Utah 
admitted  as  a  State,  and  the  Gentiles,  of  course,  were  opposed 
to  it,  knowing  well  that  most  of  them  would  have  to  emigrate 
as  soon  as  the  whole  judicial  and  executive  power  passed  into 
Mormon  hands.  Everywhere  through  the  southern  settlements 
this  was  the  great  subject  of  discussion  whenever  a  stray  Gen- 
tile wandered  into  town.  It  may  be  bad  policy  to  discuss  the 
matter  with  them,  but  I  can't  keep  still  when  an  argument  is 
shoved  at  me. 

From  Gould's  I  took,  by  mistake,  a  right  hand  road,  which 
led  me  ten  miles  north  into  the  mountains,  or  rather,  up  a 
broad  valley,  to  Virgen  City.  This  was  the  first  old  and 
established  Mormon  town  I  reached,  and  the  prospect  was  most 
delightful.  There  is  little  or  no  winter,  and  fruit  of  every 
kind  grows  in  great  perfection.  The  neat  white  dobie  houses 
were  almost  hidden  in  forests  of  peach,  fig  and  apple  trees,  and 
the  fine  vineyards  rivaled  the  best  in  California.  "Dixie 
wine,"  as  the  Mormons  call  it,  is  rather  strong  and  pungent; 


A   NAVAJO   WIFE   DESIRABLE.  661 

it  is  simply  fermented  grape  juice,  and  is  quite  inferior  to  other 
"  native  wines."  I  think,  however,  this  is  only  the  result  of 
inexperience,  and  that  in  time  this  section  will  produce  superior 
wines.  The  trees  were  almost  breaking  beneath  the  weight  of 
peaches,  already  large  as  ripe  ones  in  the  States ;  and  the  size 
reported  to  me,  of  their  ripe  peaches,  seems  almost  fabulous. 
All  that  part  of  Mormondom  south  of  the  rim  of  the  Great 
Basin  is  called  Dixie,  and  extends  some  distance  into  Arizona, 
producing  in  most  settlements  cotton,  wine  and  figs.  It  has 
been  erected  into  a  separate  diocese,  with  semi-annual  confer- 
ences at  St.  George. 

I  found  that  I  was  everywhere  taken  for  an  Indian,  at  first 
sight,  on  account  of  rny  buckskin  suit  and  Navajo  scarf  and 
moccasins.  Marriage  with  Indian  women  is  a  strong  point  in 
the  religion  of  these  southern  Mormons,  and  they  were  de- 
lighted with  my  descriptions  of  the  grace,  beauty  and  general 
desirableness  of  Navajo  girls.  They  fully  expect  to  form  a 
close  alliance  and  lasting  friendship  with  that  people  by  means 
of  intermarriage,  and  no  doubt  the  scheme  is  quite  practicable  and 
the  quickest  way  to  gain  the  desired  result.  A  few  Mormons 
have  taken  Ute  women,  but  that  tribe  has  few  that  are  desirable. 
The  Lemhi  colony  in  Idaho  were  expressly  instructed  to  get  as 
many  Indian  wives  as  possible.  It  is  a  little  odd  that  Brig- 
ham  Young  should  give  such  "  counsel "  when  the  "  Book  of 
Mormon "  expressly  says :  "  Cursed  be  he  that  mingles  his 
generation  with  the  Larnanites."  (Descendants  of  "  Laman," 
according  to  the  "Book  of  Mormon,"  who  rebelled  against 
"righteous  Nephi,"  and  whose  posterity  were  cursed  black, 
brown,  and  copper-colored,  into  the  present  race  of  Indians.) 
But  no  doubt  that  sentence  was  like  the  denunciation  against 
polygamy  and  many  other  things  in  that  "  book,"  as  the  Mor- 
mons say,  "very  good  in  the  time  they  were  given,  but  with 
our  present  daily  revelation  no  more  use  to  us  than  a  last  year's 
almanac."  Some  of  the  young  men  avowed  to  me  their  inten- 
tion of  going  at  the  earliest  opportunity  to  get  a  Navajo  girl. 
Jacob  Hamlin  visited  that  tribe  last  year,  and  on  his  return 
spent  two  weeks  with  the  Moquis.  A  man  and  his  wife  from 


662  SANDSTONE. 

the  Oraybe  village,  accompanied  Hamlin  to  Salt  Lake  City. 
The  Saints  are  looking  a  long  way  ahead  in  regard  to  their 
settlements  in  Arizona,  and  very  judiciously  too. 

Rockville,  eight  miles  above  Virgen  City,  is  in  a  completely 
sequestered  cove  in  the  mountains  at  the  very  head  of  Virgen 
River.  Thence  that  stream  flows  southwest  to  join  the  Muddy, 
the  two  furnishing  irrigation  to  several  little  Mormon  towns. 

Rio  Virgen,  "  River  of  the  Virgin"  (Mary),  is  another  name 
in  the  track  of  the  pious  gold-hunting  Spaniards.  Like  their 
mixed  descendants,  they  bestowed  sounding  titles.  In  these  re- 
gions a  collection  of  adobes  is  Ciudad  de  los  Angelos  ("  City  of 
the  Angels  ");  four  scrub  pines,  El  Paraiso,  or  Bosque  del  Santo 
Trinidad  ("  Grove  of  the  Holy  Trinity  ");  and  a  mud-puddle 
with  water  enough  for  a  score  of  mules  is  glorified  as  Ojo  de 
Todos  los  Santos  ("  Spring  of  all  the  Saints  "). 

Coming  down  the  Virgeu  to  Toquerville,  as  I  turned  the 
point  of  the  mountain  northward,  into  the  pass  leading  over  to 
the  Great  Basin,  I  entered  a  limestone  formation  ;  and  was  so 
delighted  at  the  change  that  I  was  almost  moved  to  a  shout  of 
exultation.  For  over  four  hundred  miles — all  the  way  west  of 
the  divide  of  the  Sierra  Madre — I  had  seen  nothing  but  sand- 
stone; white,  red,  yellow,  gray  or  conglomerate,  but  still  sand- 
stone. I  suppose  any  kind  of  rock  would  grow  tiresome  in  three 
or  four  weeks;  but  it  seems  to  me,  when  gazing  on  it  day 
after  day,  no  other  can  be  so  monotonous  as  sandstone.  And 
then  it  is  so  unpromising  a  stone,  as  things  are  regarded  in  this 
country ;  one  need  not  look  for  lodes  of  silver  or  lead  in  such 
a  formation.  But  you  will  never  be  long  in  limestone  or  granite 
without  meeting  the  prospector ;  so  I  was  not  surprised  to  find 
six  miners  at  the  only  hotel  in  the  next  town,  Kanarra. 

That  town  is  exactly  on,  or  rather  in,  the  rim  of  the  Great 
Basin  ;  the  water  in  the  south  end  of  town  flows  out  into  the 
Muddy,  and  from  the  north  end  into  the  Basin — or  toward  it — 
sinking  in  a  few  miles.  Here  I  had  my  first  serious  misfortune. 
My  horse  and  I  had  come  across  the  mountains  and  deserts  in 
good  health  and  spirits;  we  both  fell  sick  on  reaching  the  settle- 
ments. We  had  stood  adversity ;  prosperity  ruined  us.  My 


HORSE   AND    RIDER   TAKEN   ILL.  663 

living  across  Arizona  had  been  mostly  cured  meat,  bread  and 
coffee,  and  that  of  my  horse  bunch-grass ;  we  now  got  fresh  beef, 
green  peas  and  biscuit,  also  green  "  Lucerne  "  hay.  My  horse 
began  with  colic  and  proceeded  to  "flercy;"  while  at  Kanarra 
I  was  taken  violently  ill  with  cholera  morbus.  There  was  no 
doctor  in  town,  so  I  worried  it  through  on  hot  ginger  and  u  Dixie 
wine ; "  in  three  days  was  able  to  ride,  and  proceeded  by  easy 
stages  to  Parowan,  in  Iron  County.  But  six  hundred  miles 
through  the  Indian  country  had  worn  out  my  horse,  and  on  the 
16th  instant  I  "ranched  him"  twenty  miles  south  of  Beaver, 
and  set  out  for  that  place  in  the  wagon  of  a  Mormon  farmer. 
Some  five  miles  on  the  road — when  we  were  on  the  Beaver 
" divide" — a  cold  rain  set  in  and  continued  for  four  hours, 
changing  to  something  very  near  sleet.  The  Mormon  family — 
man  and  wife  and  little  boy — and  myself  suffered  greatly  with 
cold.  The  seasons  at  Beaver  are  very  late,  and  wheat  harvest 
does  not  begin  till  in  August.  Little  Salt  Lake  lay  a  few 
miles  west  of  our  route,  on  the  "  divide,"  and  the  entire  re- 
gion is  subject  to  raw  and  chilling  winds.  Having  passed  the 
ridge,  I  walked  down  the  eight-mile  slope  to  Beaver,  which  I 
reached  at  dark,  and  was  soon  warm  and  happy  in  the  house 
of  a  hospitable  Gentile. 

Sixty  miles  intervened  between  me  and  Fillmore,  the  point 
where  I  could  connect  with  the  stages  from  Pioche  to  Salt  Lake. 
But  the  "jerky "  now  runs  three  times  per  week  from  St. 
George,  and  was  to  pass  on  the  afternoon  of  the  18th.  Beaver 
is  one  of  the  Utah  towns  which  has  been  revolutionized  by  the 
mining  excitement.  Every  hotel  and  boarding-house  is  full  of 
miners,  prospectors  and  speculators ;  the  streets  wear  a  very  un- 
Saintly  look  of  life  and  business,  and  as  the  evil  seems  to  come 
with  the  good,  two  saloons  have  been  opened  in  opposition  to 
the  city  liquor  store,  furnishing'  Mormon  preachers  a  fine  point 
for  savage  sermons  on  the  "vile  practices  of  the  Gentile  world." 
Star  District,  some  thirty  miles  west  of  town,  is  very  prosperous ; 
and  so  many  other  mining  camps  are  scattered  through  the 
mountains  that  it  is  claimed  Beaver  County  now  has  a  ma- 
jority of  male  voters  Gentile.  But  the  Mormon  Legislature  of 


664  NEW    MINES   OPENING. 

1870  was  sharp  enough  to  provide  for  just  such  contingencies 
by  conferring  the  suffrage  on  women.  This  a  little  more  than 
doubles  the  Mormon  vote,  and  does  not  increase  that  of  the 
Gentiles  in  Beaver  County  five  per  cent. 

The  two  classes  have  got  along  pretty  well  together,  content- 
ing themselves  generally  with  talk ;  the  Tabernacle  speakers 
denouncing  the  miners  and  calling  upon  all  good  Saints  to  have 
"no  fellowship  with  the  ungodly,"  and  the  miners  retaliating 
in  kind,  with  perhaps  a  little  more  profanity. 

If  the  priests  could  be  persuaded  to  keep  still  awhile,  miners 
and  Mormons  would  soon  be  good  friends;  for  their  interests 
are  identical.  The  Mormon  wants  a  market  near  at  hand,  the 
miner  wants  fresh  provisions ;  each  supplies  the  other's  need, 
and  by  harmonious  action  both  would  prosper.  It  is  to  be 
hoped  that  the  demands  of  trade  and  mutual  intercourse  will 
soon  overcome  religious  fanaticism,  and  in  spite  of  priestly  in- 
tolerance Utah  will  ere  long  have  a  homogeneous  population. 
The  military  post  just  established  at  Beaver  adds  much  to  the 
importance  of  the  place ;  it  makes  trade  lively  among  the 
Saints,  and  the  officers  and  their  families  add  greatly  to  the 
Gentile  society.  A  few  miles  south  of  town  Fremont's  road 
crosses  the  mountains  through  Paragoonah  Pass  to  the  Sevier 
country. 

New  mining  districts  are  being  opened  all  over  southwestern 
Utah.  The  latest  sensation  is  the  Silver  Belt,  some  forty  miles 
southwest  of  Cedar  City,  and  three  hundred  from  Salt  Lake 
City.  It  has  already  shaken  the  former  place  out  of  its  old 
style  Mormon  dullness,  and  the  very  home  of  the  miscreants 
who  perpetrated  the  Mountain  Meadow  massacre  bids  fair  to 
become  a  lively  miners'  town. 

It  is  a  singular  fact  that  the  people  everywhere  in  southern 
Utah  now  talk  quite  freely  of  that  massacre  and  never  think  of 
denying  it,  as  do  the  Mormon  papers  of  Salt  Lake  City.  One 
young  man  present  at  the  massacre,  states  that  one  woman  lay 
upon  the  ground  with  a  broken  limb  and  that  Lee  ordered  him 
to  shoot  her.  This  was  after  the  principal  massacre.  The 
young  man  replied :  "  I  have  none  of  this  blood  on  my  soul, 


MORMOXISM    MODERATING   TO   PROTESTANTISM.          665 

and  I  won't  have  any."  Lee  threatened  him  with  death,  and 
then  shot  the  woman  through  the  head.  It  is  one  of  the 
strangest  things  in  American  history  that  there  should  be  so 
much  evidence,  and  so  easily  obtainable,  upon  this  affair,  and 
yet  no  legal  inquiry  made.  The  jury  system  and  the  peculiar 
statutes  of  Utah  explain  it.  If  a  decided  majority  of  the  in- 
habitants of  any  county  in  Ohio  should  decide  that  a  certain 
crime  should  not  be  punished,  all  the  authorities  of  the  State 
could  not  punish  it.  No  grand  jury  regularly  impanelled  will 
indict,  and  no  petit  jury  convict.  The  general  feeling  among 
Mormons  is,  that  though  those  men  are  guilty,  the  Church  has 
passed  upon  their  case  and  handed  them  over  to  the  "  bufferings 
of  Satan,"  and  tl>3  civil  law  has  no  business  with  it. 

Climbing  upon  the  "jerky,"  at  Beaver,  I  was  pleased  to 
recognize  in  the  driver  my  old  friend  Will  Kimball,  who  drove 
a  team  across  the  Plains  in  the  same  train  as  I  did  in  1868. 
Kimball's  father  was  one  of  the  many  arrested  the  previous 
winter  on  charges  relating  to  the  conduct  of  the  Mormon 
militia,  in  the  rebellion  of  1857,  but  was  released  with  a  hun- 
dred and  twenty  others,  when  the  Supreme  Court  reversed 
Judge  McKean's  rulings.  In  the  progress  of  Utah  affairs 
nearly  all  of  the  family  left  by  old  Heber  Kimball  have  become 
pretty  good  Gentiles.  This  seems  to  be  the  course  of  all  such 
delusions  which  do  not  end  in  blood. 

The  original  force  of  fanaticism  wears  itself  out.  It  may  be 
compared  to  one  of  Utah's  mountain  streams,  which  plunges 
from  a  rocky  gulch  in  torrents  that  threaten  to  tear  up  the 
whole  country  below.  Five  miles  down  the  plain  it  has  become 
a  gentle  rivulet  or  sluggish  stream ;  five  miles  further  there  is 
a  channel  of  dry  sand,  with  here  and  there  a  brackish  pool. 
Thus  with  the  Irvingites,  Muggletonians,  etc.,  and  so  with  this 
delusion.  Old  Mormons  die;  young  ones  grow  up  infidels, 
and  the  system  moderates  to  a  mild  Protestantism.  Kimball 
and  I  were  the  only  occupants,  and  had  a  delightful  evening 
ride  to  Fillmore,  which  we  reached  soon  after  midnight.  There 
I  went  to  sleep  in  the  "jerky,"  to  wait  for  the  Pioche  stage, 
expected  in  two  hours,  and  slept  so  sound  that  all  their  racket 


666  REMARKABLE   LAVA   PEAK. 

in  changing  horses  did  not  waken  me,  and  only  the  morning 
sunshine  in  my  face  brought  me  to  a  consciousness  that,  willy 
nitty,  I  was  to  spend  a  day  in  Fill  more.  . 

This  is  the  old  Territorial  capital,  something  like  a  hundred 
and  seventy-five  miles  southwest  of  Salt  Lake,  and  quite  a 
beautiful  town.  Several  wealthy  Mormons  reside  here,  in 
elegant  brick  and  stone  houses,  and  the  place  is  old  enough 
for  all  the  shade  trees  and  shrubbery  to  have  attained  a  good 
growth.  Some  thirty  miles  west  of  Fillmore  is  a  remarkable 
mountain  peak,  or  rather  round  heap  of  cinders  and  lava,  some 
five  hundred  feet  high.  It  is  broken  square  across  by  a  gulch 
with  almost  perpendicular  sides,  at  the  bottom  of  which  is  a 
spring  that  is  coated  with  ice  around  the  edges  for  eleven 
months  in  the  year.  The  altitude  is  no  higher  than  that  of 
Fillmore,  but  the  sun  never  shines  in  the  gorge,  and  snow 
always  lies  upon  the  sheltered  hills.  The  Church  at  Fillmore 
was  busy  cutting  off  those  who  refused  to  assist  the  new  move 
for  a  State  Government.  In  their  attempts  at  local  indepen- 
dence the  Mormons  have  succeeded  completely  in  showing  that 
they  are  unfit  for  it.  Of  some  two  hundred  Mormons,  the 
majority  women,  who  voted  and  petitioned  against  the  admis- 
sion of  Utah  as  a  State,  every  one  has  been  cited  before  the 
Council  and  forced  to  publish  a  recantation  or  be  "cut-off,  and 
delivered  over  to  the  bufferings  of  Satan."  Such  is  a  "free 
vote"  under  an  "infallible  priesthood." 

We  got  on  the  road  by  2  A.  M.,  of  the  20th,  my  companions 
being  three  miners  and  two  "girls"  from  Pioche,  and  a  young 
man  and  woman  whom  we  could  not  exactly  make  out,  and 
who  soon  became  quite  a  mystery  to  the  rest  of  us.  Their  loving 
conduct  led  us  to  conclude  that  they  were  a  young  married 
couple ;  but,  after  their  first  scare  at  us  was  over,  they  ventured 
to  hint  that  they  were  cousins,  and  going  from  St.  George  to 
Salt  Lake  City.  Every  Gentile  in  Utah  can  recognize,  or 
imagines  he  can,  a  Mormon  at  first  sight;  and  as  these  two  had 
not  the  slightest  sign  of  the  "yahoo"  about  them,  the  rest  of 
the  party  made  themselves  free  and  merry  over  every  sight  on 
the  road,  indulging  in  all  the  Gentile  slang  so  common  in  Utah. 


667 

The  miners  were  particularly  emphatic  in  denouncing  Brigham 
Young  as  a  villain  and  a  murderer,  while  the  "girls"  asked 
such  questions  and  made  such  ridiculous  suggestions  as  to  the 
way  he  divided  time  and  kept  peace  among  his  wives,  that  our 
coach  resounded  with  screams  of  laughter.  To  all  this  the 
young  couple  vouchsafed  only  a  faint  smile.  We  reached  Pay- 
son  at  midnight,  and  learning  that  the  next  coach  would  not  go 
on  till  8  A.  M.,  the  "  girls  "  took  a  room  in  the  stage  hotel,  the 
miners  and  myself  took  to  the  stable-loft,  while  the  young 
couple  concluded  to  remain  in  the  coach  the  rest  of  the  night. 
Of  course  this  was  well  enough  for  "  cousins,"  but  then  "  some 
people  will  make  remarks."  Where  we  stopped  at  dinner  next 
day,  at  Spanish  Fork,  the  Mormon  family  were  delighted  to  see 
the  young  woman,  and  to  our  horror  and  astonishment  we 
learned  that  it  was  Brigham  Young's  daughter !  I  cursed  my 
stupidity  at  not  recognizing  her,  having  seen  her  often  in  the 
city.  Against  her  father's  will  she  married  a  young  Mormon 
some  two  years  since,  and  both  are  generally  regarded  as  apos- 
tates. I  congratulated  myself  that  I  at  least  had  said  nothing 
very  much  out  of  the  way,  but  for  the  rest  of  that  ride  I  think 
we  were  the  quietest  coach  load  of  people  in  America.  At 
Draperville  the  young  woman's  husband  met  us,  and  the 
"  cousin  "  became  "  even  as  one  of  us." 

On  the  evening  of  July  21,  I  found  myself  once  more  in 
"  Zion,"  exactly  four  months  from  the  day  I  left  St.  Louis  for 
a  tour  through  the  Southern  Territories.  In  that  time  I  had 
traveled  fourteen  hundred  miles  by  rail,  six  hundred  by  stage, 
three  hundred  by  military  wagon,  two  hundred  on  foot,  and  six 
hundred  on  horseback — at  a  total  cost  of  $535.  I  reached 
"  Zion  "  in  splendid  health,  but  complete  disguise,  if  I  am  to 
judge  from  the  conduct  of  my  friends,  many  of  whom  passed 
me  on  the  street  without  a  nod,  or  with  only  a  slight  look  of 
curiosity,  as  if  some  old  and  half-forgotten  memory  were  stirred 
by  sight  of  a  face  that  "had  a  sort  o'  familiar  look,"  How- 
ever, after  a  bath  in  the  warm  springs,  getting  off  my  buckskin 
pantaloons,  spangled  Mexican  jacket  and  Navajo  scarf,  and 
donning  a  new  summer  suit,  my  fingers  received  once  more  the 


668 

wonted  squeeze,  and  once  more  I   began  to  feel   very  like  a 
Christian. 

PUBLISHERS'  NOTE. — Shortly  after  the  Author  reached  Salt 
Lake  City,  Mr.  E.  O.  Beaman,  photographer  to  the  Powell 
Expedition,  crossed  the  desert  to  Moqui,  and  spent  several  days 
taking  views  among  those  people.  The  representations  of  those 
towns  are  from  photographs  kindly  furnished  by  Mr.  Beaman ; 
those  of  scenes  from  Fort  Wingate  to  Moqui,  from  sketches 
by  the  Author. 


SALT  LAKE  THEATRE. 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 

MY   SUMMER   VACATION. 

Diamonds  by  the  bushel !— My  conclusion— The  sad  fact— Off  for  Soda  Springs — 
Cache  Valley— Gen.  Connor  and  the  Battle  of  Bear  River— Soda  Mounds — 
Health-restoring  waters — "Anti-polygamy  "  Spring — Wonders  of  the  Yellow- 
stone—Report of  Hon.  U.  P.  Langford— Return  to  Salt  Lake  City— Politics 
and  Religion — Popular  absurdities  about  Utah — A  blast  at  Brigham  and  hia 
allies. 

i 

AVING  traveled  four  months  on  business,  I  decided  to 
travel  one  for  pleasure ;  and  with  that  view  turned 
towards  the  Northern  Territories.  I  had  gone  into  the 
wilderness  to  investigate  .the  resources  of  the  Thirty-fifth 
parallel  road ;  when  I  came  out  on  the  other  side,  the 
public  had  forgotten  the  proposed  railroad,  and  the  "Great 
Diamond  Excitement"  was  at  its  hight.  It  was  the  queerest 
episode  in  my  Western  experience.  All  my  friends  who  were 
"footloose77  had  the  "Arizona  fever,"  and  "wanted  to  know, 
you  know,  just  the  truth  about  the  matter,"  as  I  had  traveled 
directly  through  the  diamond  district.  Diamonds  by  the  bushel 
was  about  the  least  measure  talked  of.  The  following,  from  the 
San  Francisco  Morning  Call,  illustrates  the  prevailing  ideas 
among  the  most  moderate  and  cautious  journals  : 

A  Call  reporter  was  detailed  to  look  into  the  matter  yesterday,  and  obtain  such 
reliable  particulars  as  he  could ;  and  as  a  preliminary  he  paid  a  visit  to  the  Bank 
of  California,  where,  he  was  informed,  the  diamonds,  alleged  to  have  been  found 
in  New  Mexico,  were  to  be  seen.  Passing  into  the  directors'  room,  rather  a 
curious  sight  presented  itself.  In  the  middle  of  the  room  was  a  handsome  leather- 
covered  table,  such  as  is  provided  for  the  accommodation  of  directors  of  wealthy 
corporations ;  and  around  it,  with  their  heads  close  together  like  a  group  of  boya 
examining  into  a  contested  game  of  marbles,  were  a  dozen  or  so  of  capitalists, 
all  intent  upon  something  which  their  by  no  means  attenuated  persons  first  hid 
from  the  reporter's  eye.  It  is  true  that  a  quart  or  two  of  self-evident  rubies  stood 
at  one  end  of  the  table  in  an  iron  cash-box ;  but  the  reporter  had  come  to  see 

669 


670 


DIAMONDS    AND    RUBIES. 


LOWER  FALLS  OF  THE  YELLOWSTONE,  WYOMING, 
(350  FEET  IN  RIGHT.) 


diamonds,  and  rubies  for  the  time  being,  though  at  other  times  they  would  have 
enchained  his  respectful  attention,  failed  to  attract  him.  The  reporter  found  it 
necessary  to  gently  push  aside  the  representatives  of  a  few  million  dollars,  and 
then  introducing  his  own  head  into  the  circle  of  bald  and  iron-gray  cherclurat, 
he  found  himself  gazing  at  last  upon  the  diamonds.  There  they  lay  scattered 
carelessly  about,  or  heaped  in  an  equally  careless  fashion  upon  pieces  of  torn 
newspaper;  and  no  very  imposing  sight  did  they  present.  Gold  looks  aristo- 


PRECIOUS   STOXES.  671 

cratic  even  in  its  quartz,  and  it  glistens  as  suggestively  there  as  in  the  twenty- 
dollar  piece ;  but  the  diamond  has  a  most  plebeian  air  until  it  has  passed  through 
the  training  and  finishing  school  of  the  lapidary.  The  diamonds,  in  fact,  looked 
like  pieces  of  bright  quartz;  some  were  not  even  bright.  They  were  of  all 
shapes  and  sizes,  from  that  of  a  canary  seed  to  that  of  a  small  Lima  bean.  Some 
were  almost  cubic  in  shape,  some  were  spherical,  others  pyramidical,  others 
pear-shaped,  and  they  numbered,  perhaps,  three  thousand.  Some  were  white, 
some  yellowish  in  color,  others  bluish  or  greenish,  and  two  or  three  pieces  of 
black  mineral,  each  about  the  size  of  a  man's  thumb,  were  lying  among  them, 
which  our  reporter  was  informed  were  "  black  diamonds,"  and  were  useful  for 
cutting  purposes — more  useful  than  ornamental.  Nearly  all  the  diamonds  were 
uncut.  Some  few — a  dozen  or  two — had  been  subjected  to  the  lathe  and  shone 
brilliantly. 

Among  the  diamonds  lay  some  dark  blue  stones;  uninteresting  enough  in 
appearance,  but  acquiring  more  importance  in  one's  eyes  when  recognized  as 
large  sapphires.  They  were  uncut,  and  were  therefore  muddy  and  dull ;  but 
when  cut  they  will  probably  be  splendid  stones,  as  some  of  them  were  as  large 
as  the  upper  part  of  a  man's  thumb. 

Rubies  stood  about  the  table  in  little  heaps.  Perhaps  there  were  a  couple  of 
quarts  of  them ;  some  almost  as  small  as  a  grain  of  sand,  others  fine  handsome 
stones.  The  few  cut  rubies  which  were  shown  were  some  of  them  of  remarka- 
bly good  color. 

I  produce  this  entire  on  account  of  its  wonderful  moderation 
of  statement.  Had  the  tenth  part  of  what  was  published  and 
sworn  to  proved  true,  diamonds  would  have  become  a  drug  in 
the  market.  To  answer  a  thousand  enquirers  at  once,  early  in 
August  I  published  a  caveat,  concluding  as  follows : 

"  I  traveled  directly  through  the  reported  diamond  country, 
as  located  by  the  San  Francisco  Company,  and  I  think  I  can 
safely  make  oath  there  were  no  diamonds  there.  Turquoises 
and  garnets  there  are  in  abundance;  every  Indian  has  a  pint  or 
so.  Occasionally  a  ruby,  of  a  very  common  kind,  is  to  be  met 
with,  and  lumps  of  fused  quartz  can  be  gathered  by  the  bushel. 
The  country  has  been  open  most  of  the  time  since  1850,  and 
every  year  or  so  some  man  imagined  he  found  diamonds.  The 
officers  from  Fort  Wingate  prospected  the  entire  region  many 
years  ago,  with  no  results,  and  there  have  been  parties  there 
every  summer  since  the  close  of  the  Navajo  war  looking  for 
diamonds.  The  Spaniards  gathered  bushels  of  curious  stones 
there  a  hundred  years  ago,  and  found  not  a  diamond  among 
them.  So  common  has  this  hunting  been  that  the  Indians  look 
upon  every  new-comer  as  a  diamond  hunter.  My  Navajo  com- 


672  DIAMOND   SWINDLE. 

panions,  seeing  I  had  nothing  to  trade,  and  was  not  a  hunter, 
could  not  be  convinced  that  I  was  not  looking  for  diamonds, 
and  brought  me  every  curious  stone  they  could  find.  I  could 
have  brought  out  bushels  of  quartz  crystals,  fused  quartz, 
garnets,  red  stone,  conglomerate  rock  and  obsidian;  but  no 
diamonds.  Now,  it  seems  to  me  reasonable  to  conclude  that, 
with  all  this  hunting  since  1850,  if  any  diamonds  were  there 
they  would  have  been  discovered  ere  this.  For  this,  and  reasons 
too  numerous  to  mention,  from  the  lay  of  the  country,  etc.,  I 
say  emphatically  :  '  No  diamonds/  " 

I  am  happy  to  state  that  this  remains  as  true  as  the  day  it 
was  written.  And  of  the  "Diamond  Swindle,- how  the  pro- 
jectors "salted"  the  ground,  and  ignorantly  put  stones  side  by 
side  which  are  never  found  together  in  a  state  of  nature ;  how  a 
two  million  diamond  company  was  organized,  and  half  a  million 
dollars  paid  in;  how  even  "experts"  were  victimized,  and  how 
the  swindlers  "got  away  with  the  baggage" — is  it  not  all  re- 
corded indelibly  in  the  chronicles  of  those  who  invested  their 
money  and  came  out  minus  ? 

On  Sunday,  August  4th,  I  set  out  from  Corinne  for  Soda 
Springs,  on  a  "narrow-gauge"  mule,  and  reached  the  first 
ranche  in  Cache  Valley  by  night.  The  Mormons  have  pro- 
jected a  narrow-gauge  railroad  from  a  point  on  the  Central 
Pacific  about  five  miles  west  of  Ogden,  to  the  Springs;  and  had 
then  finished  it  twenty-five  miles,  to  the  "divide"  between 
Beaver  River  and  Cache  Valley.  They  promise  to  complete 
their  road  by  August,  1873,  and  then  this  will  undoubtedly 
become  a  great  place  of  resort.  Cache  ("  concealed  ")  Valley  is 
a  renowned  place  in  the  history  of  the  West.  Bear  River,  after 
forming  a  U  in  Idaho,  with  the  bend  to  the  north,  runs  through 
a  beautiful  canon  into  Cache,  through  which  it  winds  in  an 
irregular  semi-circle  for  nearly  seventy  miles.  From  it  rich 
coves  and  valleys  put  back  into  the  mountains,  and  at  the  south- 
west corner  it  breaks  through  a  rugged  gap  and  "cafions" 
downward  to  Bear  River  Valley.  Thus  Cache  is  inclosed  on 
all  sides  by  lofty  mountains,  their  peaks  tipped  with  snow  all 
summer,  and  with  but  a  few  narrow  openings ;  while  the  climate 


XOBLE    SHOSHONE. 


073 


ON  GUARD. 


is  singularly  mild  and  equable,  and  grass  and  water  abundant. 
Forty  years  ago  it  was  the  winter  rendezvous  of  the  Northwest 
Fur  Company,  and  the  annals  of  that  time  tell  of  great  councils 
held  here  with  the  Bannocks,  Shoshones  (Snakes),  Uintahs  and 
representatives  from  the  Arrapahoes,  Utes,  Blackfeet  and  dis- 
tant tribes ;  of  barter  in  furs  and  Indian  goods  to  the  value  of 
millions;  of  love-making  between  the  swarthy  trappers  and 
Indian  maidens,  and  too  often  of  grand  revels  ending  in  a  gen- 
eral fight,  in  which  the  ordinary  hostile  divisions  were  ignored 
and  every  man  went  in  for  personal  revenge. 

The  Indians  still  hang  around  in  considerable  numbers, 
gaining  an  uncertain  subsistence  from  the  diminished  game,  or 
by  begging  from  the  settlements.  Between  Corinne  and  the 
Springs  I  passed  some  seventy  lodges.  But  the  "  noble  Sho- 
shone"  of  early  romance  has  disappeared.  This  tribe,  which 
once  dominated  a  region  three  hundred  by  four  hundred  miles 
in  extent,  is  now  reduced  to  eight  or  nine  thousand  ;  and  those 
who  live  near  the  settlements  are  low  and  degraded,  but  little 
above  Piutes.  They  made  their  last  stand  at  Battle  Creek  in 
43 


674  8ODA   SPRINGS. 

1861  and  1862,  and  killed  many  emigrants  to  Oregon  and  Mon- 
tana, besides  committing  many  depredations  on  the  Mormon 
settlements  below.  There  General  Connor,  commanding  the 
Nevada  volunteers  and  a  regiment  of  California  cavalry,  at- 
tacked them  in  January,  1863;  and  after  a  bloody  and  obstinate 
battle,  completely  defeated  them,  killing  and  capturing  four 
hundred  warriors.  The  coalition  of  Bannocks  and  Shoshones 
was  completely  broken,  and  they  have  given  no  serious  trouble 
since. 

This  opened  the  way  to  the  full  settlement  of  Cache,  which 
now  contains  thirteen  Mormon  towns  with  a  population  of 
twelve  thousand,  and  is  the  great  grain  producing  region  of 
Utah.  The  Saints  now  extend  from  a  point  sixty  miles  into 
Idaho  to  the  lower  Colorado,  a  hundred  miles  into  Arizona, 
making  a  nearly  continuous  line  of  settlements  six  hundred 
miles  long. 

From  the  upper  part  of  Cache,  partly  in  Idaho,  the  road 
rises  to  a  rocky  plateau,  across  which  eighteen  miles  bring  one 
to  the  Springs.  Here,  at  the  northern  bend  of  Bear  River,  the 
mountains  give  back  in  a  sort  of  semicircle,  inclosing  a  broad 
plain,  dotted  by  soda  mounds.  Everywhere  on  and  among 
these  mounds,  mostly  in  solid  rock,  are  the  Soda  Springs,  of 
every  size,  from  two  inches  to  a  rod  in  width.  Some  boil  fur- 
iously with  a  loud  bubbling  noise  and  escape  of  gas ;  others 
show  but  a  faint  effervescence;  some  are  always  calm,  and  never 
overflow,  while  others  send  out  large  and  constant  streams,  and 
still  others  sink  a  foot  or  two  when  the  air  is  cool,  and  rise  to 
an  overflow  only  when  it  is  warm.  The  springs  on  the  soda 
mounds  are  mere  tanks,  but  a  few  inches  wide,  sending  out 
such  faint  streams  that  all  the  solid  contents  are  precipitated 
and  the  water  quite  evaporated  before  reaching  the  plain.  Thus 
it  is  easily  seen  how  these  mounds  were  built  by  the  water;  and 
many  of  them  have  risen  so  high  that  they  have  no  springs,  tlit> 
water  having  broken  out  at  some  other  place.  The  springs 
most  relied  on  for  their  tonic  properties  are  four  in  number. 

1.  The  Octagon,  about  a  yard  wide,  and  half  a  mile  from  the 
river.  It  seems  to  contain  about  equal  parts  of  iron  and  soda, 


ANTI-MORMON   SPRING.  675 

and  its  tonic  effects  are  wonderful.  Invalids  often  insist  that 
the  first  drink  does  them  good,  and  that  they  can  notice  a  de- 
cided improvement  every  day  they  use  it.  The  taste,  however, 
is  not  as  pleasant  as  that  of  the  pure  soda  springs. 

2.  Roland's  Spring,  only  a  few  rods  from  the  river  bank,  is 
considered  nearly  as  good   as  the  first  in   other  respects,  and 
much  better  for  dyspepsia  alone.     It  is  a  clear,  cold  pool  in  red 
rock,  does  not  overflow,  effervesces   but  slightly,  and  is  rather 
.more  acid  to  the  taste  than  the  first. 

3.  The  Big  Spring,  or  Hooper's,  is  some  two  or  three  miles 
from  the  river  and  near  the  point  of  the  mountain.     It  is  a  rod 
wide,  and    presents  the   appearance  of  an   immense  cauldron 
boiling  furiously.     But  the  water  is   nearly  ice  cold  and  very 
pleasant.     I  am   informed   it  contains  nothing  but  pure  soda. 
Hence  it  is  more  pleasant  to  the  taste  than  either  of  the  others, 
but  is  not  quite  so  fine  a  tonic.     The  rock  basis  there  is  covered 
with  a  rich  soil   heavily  sodded   with  grass,  which   lines   the 
spring,  and  hangs  into  the  water;  and  above  it  rises  the  green 
slope  of  the  mountain,  giving  this  the  most  picturesque  location 
of  all  the  springs.     From  it  flows  a  stream  some  six  feet  wide 
and  nearly  a  foot  deep,  into  Soda  Creek,  which,  made  almost 
entirely  by  chemical  springs,  forms  the  outlet  of  Soda  Lake,  a 
few  miles  above.     In  a  beautiful  location  near  this  spring  Hon. 
W.  H.  Hooper  has  a  handsome  summer  residence,  now  occu- 
pied   by  himself  and   family.     This  water  is  often  used  with 
lemon-sugar,  making  a  drink  equal  to  the  best  soda  from  foun- 
tains. 

4.  The  Ninety-per-cent.  Spring,  which  Gentiles  call  the  Anti- 
polygamy  Spring,  is  some  two  miles  west  of  Hooper's,  and  about 
the  same  distance  from  the  river.     Of  the  solid  contents  ninety 
per  cent,  is  soda,  and  the  rest  of  some  peculiar  mineral  which 
has  a  remarkable  effect  on  the  male  human.     Many  ridiculous 
stories  are  told  of  its  anti-Mormon  properties,  but  fortunately 
the  specific  effect  lasts  but  a  few  weeks.     A  few  quarts  of  it  will 
destroy  the  strongest  faith  in  the  necessity  of  polygamy.    Suffice 
it  to  add  that  if  Joe  Smith  had  been  living  near  such  a  spring 
in  the  early  months  of  1843,  the  Mormon  Church  would  never 
have  been  cursed  with  the  doctrine  of  "  plural  wives." 


676 


GAME. 


TOWER   FALLS— WYOMING. 

The  climate  in  August  is  about  as  cool  as  early  October  in 
Salt  Lake  City,  and  the  air  most  delightful.  There  is  fine  fish- 
ing in  Bear  River,  and  good  hunting  grounds  half  a  day's  ride 
eastward.  A  day  farther  in  that  direction,  across  the  first 
mountain,  will  bring  one  to  the  range  of  larger  game,  such  a> 
cinnamon  bears,  mountain  lions  and  bighorn  sheep  :  but  few 


SARATOGA    OF    THE    WEST.  677 

visitors  care  to  try  it.  Four  miles  above  the  Big  Spring  are  the 
Formation  Springs,  and  a  remarkable  cave.  There  may  be 
seen  the  remarkable  sight  of  grass  and  sage  brush,  part  petrified 
and  part  still  growing,  as  the  spray  settles  on  the  upper  portion 
of  it;  while  farther  down  in  the  water  may  be  found  sage  brush 
and  greasewood  moulded  in  solid  stone.  A  few  miles  up  the 
river  are  sulphur  springs,  and  a  little  below  the  Octagon  is  the 
Steamboat  Spring,  the  only  feature  of  the  place  which  seriously 
disappointed  me.  I  had  heard  so  much  of  its  wonders,  that 
when  I  found  it  merely  a  hole  in  the  rock,  two  feet  wide,  filled 
with  boiling  water,  with  a  smaller  hole  near  emitting  steam,  I 
felt  defrauded.  Here  is  a  region  some  ten  miles  square,  espe- 
cially set  apart  as  a  sort  of  museum  for  the  wild  play  of  nature's 
chemicals — called  Soda  Springs  only  because  that  article  pre- 
dominates. The  original  formation  seems  to  have  been  a  sort 
of  red  volcanic  stone,  mingled  with  iron ;  through  this  the  soda 
has  boiled  up  and  built  a  deposit  of  soil. 

To  this  place,  in  1863,  General  Connor  brought  three  com- 
panies of  soldiers  and  established  a  military  post,  which  has 
been  abandoned  some  years,  the  necessity  for  it  having  passed 
away.  With  Connor  came  eighty  families  of  Morrisites,  who 
had  been  "  scattered  and  peeled"  for  a  year  or  so,  living  as  out- 
casts among  the  Mormons ;  they  built  a  considerable  town,  and 
many  of  them  remain.  The  rest  removed  in  a  body  to  Wash- 
ington Territory.  Jhe  location  is  too  cool  for  grain,  and  the 
settlers  devote  themselves  to  stock  raising,  in  which  they  are 
quite  prosperous.  Two  years  ago  Captain  Hooper  and  Brigham 
Young  bought  most  of  the  land  in  the  vicinity,  and  decided  to 
make  this  an  important  point.  And  they  will  succeed,  for  here 
are  the  air  and  the  water  which  have  a  magical  effect  on  in- 
valids. By  next  August  they  promise  to  have  their  narrow-gauge 
road  completed  ;  then  one  can  reach  here  from  the  Pacific  road 
in  nine  hours,  and  in  a  few  years,  I  have  no  doubt,  Soda 
Springs  will  drop  the  prefix  "future"  and  become  the  actual 
"  Saratoga  of  the  West." 

Three  hundred  miles  northeast  of  Soda  Springs,  but  two  or 
three  times  as  far  away  by  any  possible  road,  is  the  new  National 


678  GEYSEK    BA.SIN. 

Park  of  the  Yellowstone.  First  brought  to  public  notice  in 
1870,  by  the  notable  expedition  of  Hon.  N.  P.  Langford,  Gen- 
eral H.  D.  Washburne,  Hon.  Truman  0.  Everts,  and  other 
distinguished  citizens  of  Montana,  it  is  now  attracting  great 
attention,  and  destined  to  be  the  goal  of  curiosity  seekers  for  a 
quarter  of  a  century.  The  party,  consisting  of  nineteen  persons, 
followed  up  the  Gallatin  to  its  head  and  crossed  over  a  rocky 
ridge  to  the  Yellowstone;  from  the  last  inhabited  spot  on  that 
stream,  they  followed  up  an  Indian  trail  to  the  great  basin  of 
the  Yellowstone. 

Their  report  told  of  such  wonders  that  it  was  received  with 
incredulity ;  but  later  explorations  have  more  than  verified  them. 
They  were  threatened  by  hostile  Indians  most  of  the  time,  and 
obliged  to  keep  guard  night  and  day.  Of  the  first  curiosity, 
which  they  named  "The  Devil's  Slide,"  Mr.  Langford  says: 
"Two  parallel  vertical  walls  of  rock  project  from  the  side  of  the 
mountain  to  a  hight  of  125  feet,  traversing  the  mountain  from 
base  to  summit,  a  distance  of  1500  feet.  The  sides  are  as  even 
as  if  they  had  been  worked  by  line  and  plumb, — the  whole 
space  between,  and  on  either  side  of  them,  having  been  eroded 
and  washed  away." 

Of  the  Geyser  Basin  he  says:  "One  of  our  company  aptly 
compared  it  to  the  entrance  of  the  infernal  regions.  It  looked 
like  nothing  earthly  we  had  seen,  and  the  pungent  fumes  which 
filled  the  air  were  not  unaccompanied  by  a* disagreeable  sense 
of  possible  suffocation.  We  found  the  entire  surface  of  the 
earth  covered  with  the  incrusted  sinter  thrown  from  the  springs. 
Jets  of  hot  vapor  were  expelled  through  a  hundred  orifices. 
The  springs  were  all  in  a  state  of  violent  ebullition,  throwing 
their  liquid  contents  to  the  hight  of  three  or  four  feet." 

The  report  gives  interesting  descriptions  of  giant  geysers, 
throwing  boiling  water  high  in  the  air;  of  the  Upper  and 
Lower  Falls  of  the  Yellowstone;  of  the  great  falls  of  Tower 
Creek,  and  Rock  Pinnacles  excelling  all  others  in  the  moun- 
tains. As  time  did  not  admit  of  my  visiting  these  wonder-.  1 
present  drawings  thereof,  from  original  sketches  by  Mr.  Laii£- 
ford's  party;  the  which,  if  the  reader  studios  carefully,  he  will 
know  more  about  them  than  I  do. 


(579 


680  ELECTION  I :  K  RINK. 


UPPER    KALLS    OF    THE    YELLOWSTONE. 

From  the  coolness  and  quiet  of  Soda  Springs  I  returned  to 
the  heat  of  Zion — then  hot  in  a  doable  sense,. for  the  Saints- 
were  all  wearing  white  hats  and  yelling  themselves  hoarse  for 
Horace  Greeley.  When  I  reached  there  from  the  South  it  seemed 
to  me  that  I  had  never  seen  Salt  Lake  so  free  from  politico- 
religious  excitement  since  the  early  autumn  of  1868;  there 
appeared  actually  nothing  to  quarrel  about.  The  State  Govern- 
ment agitation  was  mostly  over,  and  all  were  taking  a  sort  of 
truce.  The  Courts  were  again  in  operation  under  the  new 
regime,  which  leaves  the  power  about  equally  divided;  Judge 
McKean  was  back  in  his  old  place,  and,  despite  his  legal  rebuff 
at  Washington,  universally  respected  by  Gentiles  and  Liberal 
Mormons.  The  improvement  in  business  over  last  year  had 
not  been  as  great  as  the  sanguine  hoped  for,  still  there  was  an 
improvement;  and  though  the  increase  in  mining  over  1871 
was  not  as  great  as  in  that  year  over  1870,  it  was  great  enough 
to  warrant  large  investments. 

In  this  condition  of  affairs  the  campaign  opened.  The  Church 
nominated  for  Congress  George  Q.  Cannon,  a  four-wived  apostle, 
declaring  in  so  many  words  that  Hooper  was  only  a  "  sort  of 
Mormon,  anyhow/'  and  Utah  should  be  represented  by  one  in 


NOMINATIONS    FOR   CONGKE.SS. 


681 


YELLOWSTONE  LAKE. 

full  faith  and  good  practice.  There  was  in  the  declaration  a 
most  ludicrous  assumption  of  superior  Mormon  morality  and 
toleration,  plainly  conveying  this  idea :  We  have  humored  this 
nation  long  enough;  and  tolerated  their  prejudices  till  they  think 
we  must ;  we  will  send  them  a  good  Saint  and  a  representative 
man,  who  will  give  dignity  and  decency  to  a  corrupt  Congress, 
etc.  The  Liberals  nominated  Gen.  George  R.  Maxwell ;  and 
all  the  bitterness  of  the  contest  in  the  nation  was  increased  ten- 
fold by  the  religious  element  introduced  into  the  quarrel.  Again 
the  Tabernacle  resounded  with  prophecies,  threats  and  denunci- 
ations ;  and  again  we  heard,  for  the  ten-thousandth  time,  of  the 
"wonderful  sobriety,  energy  and  industry  of  this  people;  who 
broke  the  roads  to  this  country,  redeemed  the  wilderness,  made 
the  desert  blossom  as  the  rose,"  etc.,  etc.,  etc.,  ad  nauseam. 

A  few  words  on  this  subject  before  I  bid  good-bye  to  Utah — 
as  I  hope,  forever.  It  is  indeed  curious  that  the  Mormon  claim 
on  this  point  should  be  allowed  so  fully  in  the  East,  even  by 
intelligent  men.  As  an  instance,  I  quote  from  an  article  in  a 
prominent  Eastern  magazine — one*  no  doubt  regarded  as  the 
embodiment  of  all  that  is  correct  by  some  fifty  thousand  fami- 
lies. The  author  came  to  Salt  Lake  City,  stayed  a  week,  and 
really  ought  to  have  known  something  about  the  Territory. 
Yet  here  is  what  he  says :  "  They  have,  in  an  incredibly  short 


682  "MORMON  ENTERPRISE." 

space  of  time,  planted  in  Utah  a  most  industrious  population 
of  a  quarter  of  a  million.  Their  agriculture  is  a  marvel  of 
skill,  and  they  have  drawn  abundant  wealth  out  of  a  soil  which 
all  before  them  had  pronounced  utterly  worthless.  Their  manu- 
factures rival  those  of  the  older  States;  and  for  five  hundred 
miles  from  north  to  south,  in  the  center  of  the  American  Desert, 
the  traveler  sees  with  amazement  a  succession  of  turnpikes,  cities 
with  improved  streets  and  elegant  homes,  and  looks  upon  hun- 
dreds of  miles  of  canals  in  what  was  once  thought  a  waterless 
desert." 

The  best  answer  to  such  fustian  is  in  a  few  plain  facts,  such 
as  any  one  may  verify  for  himself  by  the  census  and  agricul- 
tural reports,  or  by  writing  to  any  reliable  resident. 

Utah  has  been  settled  a  quarter  of  a  century;  about  the  same 
time  as  Iowa;  twice  as  long  as  Colorado  or  Nevada,  and  three 
times  as  long  as  Montana.  The  census  of  1870  gave  Utah  a 
population  of  90,000.  There  is  not  a  foot  of  regular  turnpike, 
a  rod  of  bowldered  street,  or  a  mile  of  navigable  canal  in  the 
entire  Territory.  What  they  call  turnpike  in  Utah  is  simply 
the  natural  soil  thrown  up  in  the  worst  places,  and  owing  to  the 
dryness  of  the  climate,  it  is  tolerably  good  for  nine  months  in 
the  year.  Their  streets  are  the  natural  gravel,  very  good  in 
good  weather,  very  bad  in  bad  weather.  The  Mormons  have 
never  tried  to  make  more  than' one  canal :  the  twenty-four  mile 
canal  from  Cottonwood,  to  float  the  stone  to  the  temple.  It 
was  begun  by  inspiration  of  Brigham  Young;  every  ward 
detailed  a  certain  number  of  men  to  work  on  it,  and  when 
$35,000  had  been  expended  in  money  and  labor,  it  was  found 
that  the  city  end  of  the  canal  was  about  ten  feet  higher  than  the 
Cottonwood  end,  where  the  water  was  to  be  turned  in  !  Water 
would  not  run  uphill  even  for  a  Prophet,  and  the  dry  channel 
remains  a  beautiful  monument  to  "  Mormon  enterprise."  Brig- 
ham  has  made  four  attempts  at  manufacturing,  but  every  one 
has  proved  a  flat  failure.  The  manufacture  of  beet  sugar  was 
undertaken  under  his  special  direction,  and  $60,000  invested  in 
buildings  and  machinery.  It  proved  a  total  failure,  and  not  a 
dollar  was  ever  realized  bv  those  who  invested. 


"COLORADO  COMPANY."  683 

His  next  project  was  the  Colorado  Transportation  Company. 
All  the  goods  for  Utah  were  to  be  brought  by  steamers  np  the 
Colorado,  reducing  the  land  passage  to  four  or  five  hundred 
miles,  and  making  all  Southern  Utah  independent  of  the 
freighters  across  the  plains.  At  his  direction — at  his  command 
rather — such  prominent  men  as  W.  S.  Godbe,  Henry  Lawrence, 
and  others,  subscribed  heavily  to  the  stock,  paying  in  dollar  for 
dollar,  and  the  "  long  warehouses  "  at  Callville,  on  the  Colo- 
rado, were  erected.  They  still  stand,  freight  still  comes  over 
the  plains  and  stock  in  the  "  Colorado  Company "  is  worth 
four  cents  on  the  dollar  "  for  speculative  purposes."  And  this 
failure  is  not  due  to  the  railroad ;  the  scheme  had  collapsed 
years  before  the  Union  Pacific  started  out  of  Omaha.  W.  S. 
Godbe  cited  these  facts  when  he  was  on  trial  before  the  "  School 
of  the  Prophets,"  as  proof  that  God  did  not  inspire  men  in 
business  matters;  but  that  experience  was  the  only  true  guide 
there.  Brigham  replied  that  the  stock  in  that  company  would 
yet  come  up  to  a  premium,  to  which  Godbe  rejoined  with  a 
sarcastic  offer  to  sell  his  to  Brigham  now  at  ten  cents  on  the 
dollar. 

As  to  manufactures,  there  are  said  to  be  some  in  successful 
operation  in  the  southern  part  of  Utah.  The  Beaver  Woolen 
Mill,  which  takes  the  lead,  is  about  such  a  factory  as  one  may 
find  in  every  county  in  Ohio.  Possibly  ten  thousand  miners 
have  been  added  since  1870,  bringing  the  total  population  to 
100,000.  The  Mormons  made  a  great  outcry  about  fraud  and 
misrepresentation  in  this  census,  and  soon  after  entered  upon  an 
enumeration  of  their  own,  to  prove  that  they  had  people  enough 
to  entitle  them  to  a  State  Government.  They  have  devoted 
considerable  of  their  vaunted  "energy"  to  publishing  nothing 
whatever  of  the  results,  but  now  say,  in  general  terms,  that 
their  people  number  120,000. 

As  to  wealth,  there  are  no  people  in  the  United  States,  New 
Mexico  possibly  excepted,  who  will  average  as  poor  as  the 
Mormons.  The  twenty  thousand  Gentiles  now  in  Utah  own 
thirty  per  cent,  more  property  than  all  the  eighty  thousand 
Mormons.  The  mines  of  Utah  are  already  worth  more  than 


684  RICHES. 

the  real  estate;  four-fifths  of  the  money  now  in  circulation 
comes  from  Gentiles,  and  the  Emma  Mine  alone  brings  more 
money  into  the  country  than  the  agriculture  of  any  two 
counties  in  Utah.  Brigham  may  possibly  be  worth  a  million 
dollars,  but  I  doubt  it.  I  can  not  see  where  it  came  from. 
Below  him  there  are  not,  inside  the  Church,  twenty  wealthy 
men;  and  even  in  Salt  Lake  City  the  finest  houses,  best  im- 
proved property,  and  most  paying  institutions  are  in  the  hands 
of  Gentiles.  Walker  Brothers,  who  got  out  of  the  Church 
young  enough  to  learn  Gentile  ways,  and  substitute  common 
sense  for  inspiration,  do  a  business  equal  to  that  of  all  the  retail 
co-operative  stores;  and  Mr.  Warren  Hussey,  the  Gentile 
banker  of  Salt  Lake  City,  could  buy  out  the  whole  "College 
of  the  Twelve  Apostles  "  with  one  year's  income. 

In  the  year  1872,  Mr.  Hussey  paid  within  a  few  hundred 
dollars  of  twice  the  amount  of  revenue  paid  by  the  whole 
Mormon  people,  from  Brigham  Young  down.  In  the  enor- 
mous fortunes  which  have  been  made  in  the  last  two  years  by 
mining  operations,  I  know  of  but  two  Mormons  who  have 
shared,  and  one  of 'them,  a  Mr.  Groesbeck,  is  already  under  a 
cloud,  threatened  with  excommunication  by  Brigham  because 
he  declines  to  divide. 

A  very  little  reflection  will  show  any  business  man  that  the 
Mormons  can  not  be  a  wealthy  people;  that  there  can  not  be 
that  wealth  in  the  hands  of  Brigham  Young  which  is  so  often 
spoken  of.  They  went  to  Utah  in  the  last  stages  of  poverty, 
next  door  to  starvation;  and  their  converts  since  have  been 
from  the  lowest,  poorest  and  most  ignorant  peasantry  of  Europe. 
Most  of  them  could  only  emigrate  with  aid  extended  by  the 
Church.  As  Brigham  said  in  a  sermon  lately :  "  They  did  not 
know  enough  to  put  a  pig  in  a  pen — and  where  they  came  from 
never  had  a  pig  to  put  in  a  pen."  Manifestly  they  brought  no 
wealth  with  them.  The  Church  records  show  that  of  the  new 
converts  at  least  forty  per  cent,  apostatize  and  get  away  before 
three  years  ;  and  about  thirty  per  cent,  more  apostatize  soon  or 
late.  I  once  heard  Brigham  make  out  the  figures  in  a  sermon, 
demonstrating  that  of  all  who  joined  the  Church  over  seventy 


MORMON    POVERTY.  685 

per  cent,  apostatized.     And  by  a  singular  coincidence  it  is  those 
who  have  the   most  money    who  generally    apostatize.       And 
where  did  this  supposed  wealth  come  from?     They  were   there 
three  years  before  they  had  any  trade ;  then  came  the  California 
emigration,  which  gave  them  some  trade  until   1855  or  1856. 
But  all  from  that  source  would  not  make  fifty  dollars  to  each 
person  in  Utah.     Then  came  successively  the  trade  with  other 
mining  countries,  which   redeemed   Utah  from  utter  poverty ; 
but  all  combined  could  not  make  her  rich.     A  community  can 
not  get  rich  on  the  sale  of  surplus  produce,  when  four  families 
out  of  five  have  no  surplus.     And  that  is  the  case  two  years 
out  of  three  in  Utah.     The  Mormon  farms  average  from  five 
to  ten  acres.     Twenty  acres  is  an  immense  farm  in  one  of  these 
little  valleys.     Indeed,  one  family  can   not  tend  so  much  with 
their  wretchedly  awkward  system  of  irrigation.     Most  of  the 
families  are  barely  self-sustaining  on  such  a  little  patch  as  that. 
There   has    probably   been   more   wholesale  judicious   lying 
done  by  Mormon  missionaries  in  Europe,  about  the  glories  and 
advantages  of  JJtah,  than  by  the  advocates  of  any  other  cause 
in  the  world.     The  Mormons  are  better  off,  far  better  off,  now 
than  ever  before  in  their  history;  and  this  is  owing  entirely  to 
the  development  of  the  mines,  which  the  pig-headed  priesthood 
so  long  opposed.     I  wish  our  brilliant  rnagazinist  had  gone  to 
some  of  the  more  remote  settlements  to  look  at  some  of  those 
"elegant  homes"  he  speaks  of.     In  Salt  Lake  City  there  are 
some  nice  buildings — perhaps  one-third  or  one-half  as  many  as 
in  Omaha  and  other  Western  cities  of  the  size.     A  few  more 
may  be  found   in  Ogden,  Provo,  Fillmore,  and  three  or  four 
other   prominent    places.     But   let   the    traveler   turn    out   to 
Heber  City,  or  the  secluded  places  up  San  Pete  or  the  Sevier, 
and  he  will   find  a  degree  of  poverty  and  ignorance  he  would 
scarcely  have  credited  among  the  peasantry  of  Europe.     And 
there  he  will  find  the  simon-pure,  straight-out  and  fanatical 
Mormons — a   race   of   simple   shepherds,    with    reason   scarce 
above  the  sheep  they  drive.     There  the  unhappy  traveler,  if 
compelled  to  seek  shelter  in  winter,  will  find  it  in  a  Swedish 
"  dug-out"  or  a  half-mud  hut,  tenanted  equally  by  dogs,  Danes, 


686  THE    UNIVERSITY. 

fleas,  and  other  undesirables.  He  will  thaw  his  numbed  limbs 
by  the  sickly  simmer  of  a  sage-brush  fire,  force  a  scant  supper 
of  suspicious  porridge,  and  sink  to  uneasy  slumbers  upon  the 
ground  or  a  pile  of  straw,  from  which  he  will  rise  in  the 
morning  steaming  with  earthy  damps  or  wrenched  with  rheuma- 
tism, lined  with  fleas,  or  half  crazy  with  itch.  A  single  night 
in  one  of  these  "elegant  homes "0will  fully  prepare  him  for 
eulogies  on  Mormon  thrift  and  progress. 

In  Kansas,  Nebraska  or  Dakota,  all  of  which  were  then 
open  to  the  Mormons,  it  costs  about  three  dollars  to  make  an 
acre  of  wild  land  fit  for  cultivation;  in  Utah  from  twenty-five 
to  a  hundred  dollars.  And  to  this  country,  across  that  country, 
Brigham,  "  by  inspiration,"  led  his  people  eleven  hundred 
miles.  The  answer,  of  course,  is  that  he  wanted  to  isolate 
them.  Well,  polygamy  was  the  only  reason  for  wanting  them 
isolated ;  and  in  the  very  nature  of  things  only  a  few  of  the 
leading  and  wealthy  men,  about  one  in  six  of  the  whole,  can 
practise  polygamy.  And  that  this  little  aristocracy  may  live  a 
life  of  domestic  sensuality,  all  the  rest  must  spend  a  weary  life 
of  profitless  toil.  If  such  a  man  be  a  real  Moses,  where  do  you 
find  a  spurious  one? 

And  what  of  education  ?  Look  again  at  the  census,  and  find 
single  counties  in  Utah  with  more  adults  who  can  not  read  and 
write  than  in  any  Congressional  district  in  the  States.  Two  or 
three  times  a  year  the  "University  of  Deserct"  puts  forth  a 
pretentious  catalogue,  with  a  lengthy  list  of  professors  and 
officials,  which  is  quoted  admiringly  "in  foreign  parts;"  and 
every  day  hundreds  of  strangers  in  the  city  pass  the  said  "Uni- 
versity" building,  without  the  slightest  suspicion  that  they  are 
within  the  shadow  of  an  institution  of  learning.  Ask  at 
random  a  hundred  visitors  to  Utah,  and  ninety-nine  of  them 
will  declare  they  saw  no  "University."  And  yet  every  one  of 
them  passed  it  when  they  entered  the  city.  It  is  a  two-story 
adobe,  plastered  and  dun-colored,  perhaps  forty  by  twenty  feet 
in  extent,  at  the  upper  end  of  Main  Street;  and  looks  like  a 
tolerably  respectable  second  rate  grocery  store. 

But  the  highest  eulogies  are  reserved  for  "  Mormon  indus- 


EVILS    OF    MOKMONISM.  687 

try."  The  Mormons  are  just  like  all  other  people  in  one 
respect — they  will  work  rather  than  starve ;  but  unlike  most 
other  people  in  America  in  the  fact  that,  when  their  purely 
material  wants  are  satisfied,  the  most  of  them  care  for  nothing 
further.  They  have  adopted  the  bee  as  their  model,  and  are 
content  with  the  blind  instincts  of  the  bee — satisfied  with  food 
and  shelter,  with  little  regard  to  the  higher  man.  I  never  had 
the  evils  and  wrongs  of  Mormonism,  in  a  purely  economical 
view,  so  forcibly  brought  to  my  mind  as  when  1  went  thence 
to  Minnesota.  There  were  Scandinavian  colonies  of  the  same 
race  as  many  of  the  Mormon  converts  in  Utah,  who  came  to 
this  country  in  the  same  condition  of  poverty  as  these;  they 
are  now  the  wealthiest  people  in  the  country,  and  these,  as 
Brigham  says,  "  have  a  cow  and  two  or  three  pigs  apiece,  and 
are  beginning  to  live."  In  1859,  when  I  lived  in  Minnesota, 
I  could  but  laugh  at  the  odd  and  poverty-stricken  appearance 
of  the  long  trains  of  Norweigans  I  saw  filing  in  to  their  colo- 
nies. Last  September  I  saw  the  same  colonies  with  all  that 
heart  could  wish ;  their  granaries  full,  and  their  cattle  num- 
bered by  tens  of  thousands;  and  the  little  colony  of  Norwegians 
above  Monticello,  Minnesota,  on  a  tract  perhaps  eight  miles 
square,  have  more  ready  money,  and  more  that  will  sell  for 
ready  money,  than  all  the  Scandinavians  in  Utah. 

There  we  see  the.  results  of  un trammeled  energy  following 
natural  law;  here  the  results  of  a  cruel  and  repressive  theo- 
cratic system,  which  destroys  individuality  and  contravenes 
natural  law.  And,  indeed,  how  can  these  people  improve 
their  condition?  To  advance,  an  agricultural  community  must 
have  a  regular  surplus  to  apply  in  improvements  and  new 
investments.  But  the  surplus  of  these  people  is  taken  up  in 
tithing  and  donations  to  the  Church,  and  the  ten  per  cent,  a 
year  which  ought  to  go  to  building  up  each  man's  prosperity, 
goes  to  swell  the  revenues  of  the  Church.  And  worse  than 
all,  the  Church  itself,  or  rather  the  priesthood,  does  not  profit 
thereby ;  for  the  system  is  a  wasteful  one  and  destructive  to 
real  prosperity.  All  the  sap  and  nutriment  of  the  country, 
all  that  ought  to  return  in  vivifying  currents  to  the  extremities, 


688 


BRIG  HAM    YOUNG    RESPONSIBLE. 


THE   GIANTESS— YELLOWSTONE. 


goes    to   swell,  not 
a  healthful  center, 
but  a   bloated  and 
unwholesome     ex- 
crescence. And  this 
is    my    indictment 
against       Brigham 
Young :    That    he 
has    brought   these 
poor    people     here 
with  delusive  pro- 
mises; that  his  sys- 
tem    keeps     them 
almost  as   poor  as 
they   were  in   Eu- 
rope,    when      the 
same     labor    else- 
where in  our  coun- 
try   would     have 
made    them    rich ; 
that  he  has  wasted 
their  -energies     in 
the    pursuit    of   a 
.    wild      fanaticism, 
and,   though    their 
condition  be  a  little 
improved,  his   un- 
natural  system   of 
religious      govern- 
ment has  made  fifty 
thousand  producers 
the  poorest  in  the 
country,      and      a 
source      only      of 
weakness  and  poli- 
t  i  c  a  1      em  bar  rass- 
ment  to  the  Nation, 


MORMONISM   A   HUMBUG.  689 

when  a  natural  system  of  immigration,  each  pursuing  his  own 
good,  untrammeled  by  priestcraft  or  theocracy,  would  have 
made  each  one  of  them  rich,  and  added  fifty  millions  to  the 
wealth  of  the  Nation. 

Mormonism  is  even  a  greater  humbug  as  an  industrial  sys- 
tem than  as  a  religion — there  is  less  production  to  the  number 
of  workers — though  take  it  as  one  may,  it  is  the  champion 
humbug  of  modern  times.  It  began  on  a  stolen  romance, 
fraudulently  palmed  off  as  a  bible.  Its  prophet  was  a  fiddling 
sot ;  his  successor  is  socially  a  boor,  and  as  a  financier  or 
manager  the  worst  overrated  man  of  the  age ;  and  its  pretences 
of  industry,  morality  and  sobriety  are  even  more  fraudulent 
and  unfounded  than  its  claims  as  a  religion.  A  very  little 
reflection  ought  to  convince  any  one  that  the  claims  put  forth 
for  Mormon  industry  and  progress  could  not  be  true  while  its 
social  system  is  as  it  is ;  for  it  is  in  the  nature  of  things  impos- 
sible that  material  progress  should  be  cotemporary  with  moral 
retrogression ;  that  a  people  should  for  any  length  of  time  go 
forward  in  industry  and  education,  and  backward  in  sense  and 
morals.  No,  those  who  maintain  that  the  Mormons  are  pro- 
gressing so  finely  in  material  things,  must  admit  either  that 
their  religion  is  true,  or  that  the  soundest  principles  of  philoso- 
phy are  in  their  case  falsified. 

I  do  not  wonder  at  Mormons  boasting ;  for  a  people  united 
in  the  faith  they  are,  are  necessarily  in  opposition  to  all  the 
rest  of  the  world.  I  do  not  object  to  their  falsehoods  about 
themselves;  for  falsehood  is  an  essential  of  their  religion.-  But 
I  do  object  to  their  outside  apologists  attempting  by  such  mis- 
representations to  bolster  up  a  falling  cause. 

Under  the  anomalous  voting  system  of  Utah,  the  Gentile 
minority,  though  paying  three-fourths  of  the  Government 
taxes,  is  completely  disfranchised ;  the  mere  will  of  Brigham 
Young,  operating  through  the  Church  machinery,  determining 
who  shall  be  elected.  The  Governor  and  District  Courts  are 
all  that  stand  between  Gentile  property  and  Mormon  rapacity ; 
but  that  barrier  they  now  seek  to  remove  by  a  State  organiza- 
tion. 

44 


690  NO   PEACE   IN   UTAH. 

It  is  said  that  there  are  still  a  few  people  in  the  East  in  favor 
of  creating  a  Mormon  State.  That  is,  be  it  understood,  a 
State  where  every  official,  from  Governor  to  Constable,  would 
be  nominated  by  Brigham  Young,  and  elected  by  the  Mormon 
majority,  voting  solidly  under  the  direction  of  the  priesthood. 
Then  we  should  have  Gentile  mining  interests,  involving 
millions,  settled  by  Mormon  priests  as  judge  and  jury;  Gentile 
estates  cut  up  in  Mormon  Probate,  and  Mormons  tithing  the 
inheritance  of  the  widow  and  orphan ;  Mormon  officials  pur- 
suing accused  men  into  Gentile  towns,  searching  and  insulting 
whom  they  pleased.  Riots,  mobs  and  forcible  rescues  would 
follow  as  naturally  as  the  crop  follows  the  seed ;  for  nobody 
would  have  any  confidence  in  the  law.  These  foreigners, 
arrogant  by  their  religion  and  swelled  by  triumph,  would  again 
organize  the  Nauvoo  Legion,  which  the  gallant  Shaffer  abol- 
ished, and  enjoy  themselves  lording  it  over  American  citizens. 
And  would  the  miners  and  Gentiles  peaceably  endure  this? 
No,  never.  Come  what  may,  though  it  cost  blood  to  prevent 
it,  this  incestuous  race  and  foresworn  priesthood  should  never 
snap  the  whip  of  priestly  domination  over  American  miners. 
You  might  as  well  tell  me  that  you  can  make  Vesuvius  into  a 
powder-house,  as  that  you  can  erect  a  Mormon  State  in  Utah, 
and  have  peace. 


CHAPTER    XXXII, 

SHORT   NOTES   ON   A   LONG   EXCURSION. 

Another  ride  on  the  Union  Pacific— Down  to  St.  Louis— Up  to  Nauvoo— His- 
toric interest— A  strange  old  place— German  vintners— Beauty  of  the  site- 
Through  Iowa— Southern  Dakota— Yankton  politicians— Territorial  Officials 
— "  The  Government  cannot  afford  good  men  "—Down  the  Missouri— An 
uncertain  channel— On  the  Sioux  City  and  St.  Paul  Road. 

!O  fully  enjoy  a  ride  on  the  Trans-Continental,  one  ought 
to  be  a  "  Pioneer" — one  of  those  who  whacked  mules  or 
oxen  across  the  Plains  in  the  olden  time.  Then  the 
bright  contrast — smoothness  and  speed  where  he  toiled 
so  slowly  and  wearily  along — raises  his  enjoyment  far 
above  that  of  commonplace  travelers  by  rail.  I  am  only  half 
qualified  in  this  respect,  as  I  drove  a  mule  team  only  four  hun- 
dred miles — my  first  trip  to  Salt  Lake  City.  But  in  the  short 
time  since  the  road  has  worked  Wondrous  changes. 

I  left  "  Zion "  at  4  A.  M.  of  August  20th ;  breakfasted  at 
Ogden,  and  soon  entered  upon  the  long  ride  in  one  of  those 
rolling  palaces  which  have  done  so  much  to  make  travel  by 
rail  a  continual  delight.  What  a  change  from  the  back  of  an 
ambling  American  horse  on  which  I  made  the  tour  of  Arizona. 
And  I  could  but  ask  myself,  somewhat  doubtfully,  too :  shall  I 
ever  roll  along  the  line  of  the  Thirty-fifth  parallel  road  in  a 
Pullman  palace,  as  I  now  ride  where  four  years  ago  I  toiled 
with  mule  teams  ?  The  change  would  be  no  greater  than  I 
have  seen  here. 

Our  sleeping  car  contained  the  usual  assortment  to  be  found 
on  eastern  bound  cars  at  this  season.  Four  English  families 
from  Honolulu  were  on  their  way  home  on  a  visit.  Fifteen 
years  ago  the  young  people  had  gone  there,  married  and  settled; 

691 


692 


ON   THE   UNION    PACIFIC. 


THE   OLD   WAY  ACROSS   THE  PLAINS. 

they  had  promised  themselves  a  trip  to  "Hold  Hingland"  as 
soon  as  the  great  American  road  should  be  completed,  enabling 
them  to  break  the  monotony  of  a  long  sea  voyage,  and  in  three 
years  after  its  completion  had  got  ready  to  start.  The  bright 
'children,  natives  of  the  Sandwich  Isles,  had  preserved  the  clear 
skin  and  bright  blue  eyes  of  the  native  Briton ;  but  on  this 
Anglo-Saxon  basis  were  engrafted  a  thousand  queer  Western 
ways,  accompanied  by  soft  tropical  words,  Kanaka  names  and 
"native"  slang.'  There  were  three  young  Britons  from  China, 
returning  home  after  five  years'  absence ;  and  two  Russian  gen- 
tlemen, prominent  in  science,  who  had  been  exploring  the  mines 
and  mountains  of  Utah  for  some  weeks  past.  Of  our  own 
people  there  was  more  variety :  the  mountain  miner  who  had 
"struck  it  rich"  in  some  of  the  newly  discovered  placers,  and 
was  on  his  way  East  to  enjoy  hi*  fortune ;  the  returned  Cali- 
fornian,  who  had  been  "in  luck,"  and  a  dozen  classes  of  moun- 
taineers, prospectors,  hunters  and  tourists.  The  pile  of  trunks 
at  the  junction  formed  quite  a  study :  they  were  marked  Mel- 
bourne, Hong  Kong,  London,  Victoria,  San  Diego  and  Alaska; 
with  a  score  of  places  in  "  the  States,"  Chicago  always  predom- 
inating. 


IMPROVEMENTS. 


693 


Improvements  are  noticeable  everywhere  on  the  road.  All 
traces  of  the  wrecks  of  last  winter  are  gone ;  the  defective  sheds 
are  removed,  and  every  place  of  possible  blockade  carefully 
guarded,  so  that  it  is  nearly  or  quite  impossible  that  the  trouble 
of  last  winter  should  ever  be  repeated.  With  the  improvements 
on  the  California 
end  the  whole  line 
is  about  as  near 
perfect  as  man's 
work  can  become, 
and  we  may  justly 
claim  that  it  is  not 
only  the  longest, 
but  the  best  built 
road  in  the  world. 

Reaching  Oma- 
ha I  saw  by  the 
press  that  twenty 
persons  had  died 
the  previous  day 
in  St.  Louis  by  sun- 
stroke. I  had  put 
in  the  early  part 
of  the  summer 
where  one  needed 
two  or  three  blan- 
kets every  night, 
and  it  seemed  that 
I  would  melt  under 
the  heat  of  the 
Missouri  Valley. 
But  the  thermom- 
eter marked  the 
same  degree  as  in 

Utah.  The  same  temperature  is  much  more  debilitating  in  the 
Mississippi  Valley  to  one  just  from  the  mountains ;  it  appears 
more  steamy  and  weakening  than  the  day  heat  of  Utah  and 
Northern  Arizona. 


MOHUMKNT  ROCK— ECHO  CANON. 


694  NAUVOO. 

After  two  days  at  St.  Louis  I  was  informed  that  "  our  party 
at  Yankton,  Dakota,  were  ready  for  excursion  on  the  North 
Pacific ;"  and  on  the  31st  of  August  took  boat  northward,  saving 
one  day  for  a  visit  to  Nauvoo — a  city  of  great  historic  interest 
to  Utah  people.  It  has  the  most  beautiful  site  in  Illinois.  The 
river  makes  a  bend  westward  nearly  in  the  shape  of  a  U ;  the 
point  in  the  lower  part  is  a  mile  wide,  and  lies  just  high  enough 
above  the  river  for  commercial  convenience;  and  thence  the 
hill  rises  by  gentle  slopes  for  two  miles  eastward.  At  the  upper 
end  of  the  flat  on  the  river  is  a  splendid  steamboat  landing,  and 
about  half  way  around  the  bend  the  rapids  begin,  giving  a  fine 
front  for  manufacturing  purposes.  Here  the  Mormons  had 
projected  a  row  of  cotton  manufactories;  they  were  to  bring  the 
cotton  up  the  river,  and  with  their  own  operatives,  converted 
from  the  workshops  of  England,  build  up  a  great  manufacturing 
community.  Could  they  have  maintained  peace  with  their 
neighbors,  they  would  have  had  some  fifteen  years  to  perfect 
this  scheme  before  the  railroad  era  superseded  river  transporta- 
tion, and  Nauvoo  would  have  had  too  great  a  start  for  the  tide 
to  turn.  They  and  their  apologists  of  course  maintain  that  the 
Gentiles  were  altogether  to  blame  for  the  breaking  up  of  these 
fine  schemes ;  but  when  a  man  moves  six  or  seven  times,  as 
they  did,  and  quarrels  with  the  neighbors  every  time,  I  am  in- 
clined to  conclude  that  he  takes  the  worst  neighbor  along  with 
him  every  move.  I  was  most  agreeably  disappointed  in  the 
appearance  of  Nauvoo,  having  often  heard  that  it  was  a  gloomy 
collection  of  uninhabited  and  dilapidated  houses.  I  found  it 
neat,  prosperous  and  beautifully  improved,  with  a  population 
of  twenty-five  hundred,  many  new  dwellings,  and  not  one  un- 
occupied. 

After  the  Mormons  came  a  people  even  more  curious  than 
they,  but  quite  harmless :  the  Icarians,  or  French  "  Fraternal 
Society "  of  Communists,  under  the  lead  of  M.  Cabet.  The 
term  has  been  so  much  abused  of  late  that  I  will  explain  by 
stating  that  these  Communists  were  substantially  of  the  same 
class  as  those  Robert  Owen  brought  to  Posey  County,  Indiana 
— that  is,  all  the  property  belonged  to  the  society.  They  wore 


NATIVE   WINES.  695 

a  common  uniform,  maintained  the  family  relation,  and  worked 
in  detailed  squads.  But  Cabet  used  poor  judgment  in  his  se- 
lections :  here  was  to  be  seen  a  former  college  professor  herding 
swine ;  there  a  Paris  goldsmith  driving  oxen,  and  a  well-known 
scholar,  crack-brained  on  socialistic  theories,  was  made  assistant 
sawyer  at  the  society's  mill.  It  cured  him,  however. 

Inherent  in  all  such  societies  is  one  fatal  weakness:  they 
ignore  individuality;  forget  the  patent  fact  that  zeal  for  the 
community  is  only  a  secondary  sentiment,  resulting  from  the 
individual's  zeal  for  himself,  and  like  the  Jews  with  the  Sab- 
bath, imagine  that  man  was  made  for  society,  instead  of  society 
for  the  convenience  of  the  man.  Two  or  three  years  the  ex- 
periment continued ;  then  the  Icarians  divided  their  property 
and  left,  and  Nauvoo  sunk  to  a  village  of  some  six  hundred 
people.  Ten  years  after  it  began  to  improve,  and  is  now  pros- 
perous, the  bulk  of  its  inhabitants  being  German  vine-dressers, 
a  neat,  trusty  and  pleasant  class  of  Bavarians  and  Westphalians. 
Every  house  is  surrounded  by  orchards  and  vineyards,  and 
native  wine  and  fruits  of  all  kinds  are  cheap.  By  invitation 
of  Fred.  Baum,  the  principal  vintner  of  the  place,  I  spent  two 
hours  in  his  cellars,  and  found  the  wine  equal  to  any  of  native 
production.  After  sampling  the  white  and  red  Concord,  Ca- 
tawba,  Delaware  and  a  peculiar  sweet  wine  made  from  the  Nor- 
ton seedling  grape,  rny  palate  became  somewhat  confused,  and 
I  declined  the  Clinton  and  Nauvoo  Sparke  which,  as  the  best, 
were  reserved  to  the  last.  The  place  is  rapidly  becoming  im- 
portant for  its  vintage. 

Where  the  great  Mormon  temple  once  stood  is  now  a  fine 
vineyard,  and  not  one  of  the  original  stones  remains.  Three 
of  the  neighboring  houses  are  built  entirely  of  the  beautiful 
white  rock,  and  the  rest  has  made  walls  and  foundations  all 
over  town.  This  wonderful  structure  cost  between  a  half  and 
three-quarters  of  a  million  dollars  in  money  and  labor,  and  the 
Icarians  had  proposed  to  fit  it  up  as  a  social  hall  and  school- 
room. But  at  2  A.M.  of  November  10,  1848,  it  was  found  to 
be  on  fire,  and  before  daylight  every  particle  of  woodwork  was 
destroyed.  It  was  set  on  fire  in  the  third  story  of  the  steeple, 


696 


MORMON   TEMPLE   BURNED. 


MORMON  TEMPLE  AT  XAUVOO,   ILLINOIS. 

one  hundred  and  forty  feet  from  the  ground.  The  dry  pine 
burned  like  tinder;  there  was  no  mode  of  reaching  the  fire, 
and  in  twenty  minutes  the  whole  wooden  interior  was  a  mass 
of  flames.  In  two  hours  nothing  remained  but  hot  walls,  in- 
closing a  bed  of  embers.  At  Montrose  and  Fort  Madison, 
Iowa,  they  could  distinguish  every  house  in  Nauvoo,  and  the 
light  was  seen  forty  miles  away  in  both  States.  It  was  a  great 
loss  to  Nauvoo,  and  the  citizens  for  a  time  supposed  that  it  was 
fired  by  the  Mormons,  unwilling  that  the  Gentiles  should  en- 
joy their  work.  But  it  has  since  transpired  that  the  incendiary 
was  one  Joe  Agnew,  of  Pontoosuc,  fourteen  miles  above  Nauvoo. 
Parties  to  whom  he  confessed  revealed  it  after  his  death.  He 
had  suffered  at  the  hands  of  the  Mormons,  and  was  determined 
"  no  trace  of  them  should  remain  on  the  soil  of  Illinois."  He 
broke  in  at  a  window  in  the  southeast  corner  of  the  basement, 
whence  a  stairway  led  into  the  steeple.  The  hurricane  of 


REFLECTIONS. 


697 


NAUVOO  MILITIA  AND   "GENERAL"  JOSEPH  SMITH. 


1850  threw  down  most  of  the  walls,  and  prevented  it  from 
being  refitted.  From  the  deck  of  a  Mississippi  steamer  Nau- 
voo,  which  once  had  fourteen  thousand  inhabitants,  now  looks 
like  a  suburb  of  retired  country  seats,  stretching  for  two  or  three 
miles  up  a  handsome  slope ;  and  thousands  yearly  pass  on  the 
river  admiring  the  rural  beauty  of  the  place,  but  little  thinking 
that  a  quarter  of  a  century  since  it  was  the  largest  city  in  Illi- 
nois, and  the  most  notorious  in  America/  the  chosen  stronghold 
of  a  most  peculiar  faith  and  destined  capital  of  a  vast  religious 
empire. 

Thence  by  steamer  to  Burlington,  Iowa;  and  by  regular 
course  of  rail  to  Sioux  City,  which  I  found  much  improved 
in  the  year  since  I  had  last  seen  it,  but  now,  like  all  of  Iowa, 
blazing  with  political  excitement.  Thence  to  Yankton,  by  stage, 
I  found  the  country  with  signs  of  considerable  improvement 
over  the  previous  year.  Eastern  and  southeastern  Dakota  con- 
tain 30,000  square  miles  of  the  richest  farming  land  in  the 


698  NORTHERN    DAKOTA. 

world,  at  least  half  of  it  yet  open  to  the  pre-emptor;  and  nearly 
all  of  it  to  the  settler.  A  fertile  area  about  the  size  of  Indiana 
contains  a  population  of  only  20,000.  The  objection  commonly 
urged  is  the  climate ;  but  this  need  not  deter  the  native  of  our 
Northern  States.  Those  who  have  settled  there  do  not  find  it 
excessively  rigorous.  The  corresponding  parts  of  Iowa  and 
Minnesota  have  proved  well  adapted  to  the  development  of 
man ;  and  with  the  healthful  air  of  Dakota,  while  the  material 
is  not  wanting,  we  may  say: 

"  Man  is  the  nobler  growth  our  realms  supply  ; 
And  souls  are  ripened  in  our  Northern  sky." 

The  railroad  is  now  completed  from  Sioux  City  to  Yankton. 
We  found  it  difficult  to  decide  on  our  route  to  the  Northern 
Pacific.  Stages  run  tip  the  eastern  side  of  the  Territory  to 
Sioux  Falls;  but  from  there  extends  an  uninhabited  region  for 
a  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  to  the  railroad  crossing  of  Red  River. 
Next  it  was  suggested  that  we  take  steamer  up  the  Missouri  to 
the  crossing,  whence  it  was  only  seventy-five  miles  eastward  to 
the  end  of  the  track. 

Northern  Dakota  is  in  the  North  Intemperate  zone,  if  I  may 
judge  from  my  experience  of  it;  but  late  settlers  in  Red  River 
Valley,  mostly  from  Northern  Europe,  pronounce  the  climate 
delightful,  arid  have  succeeded  in  producing  all  the  grains  of 
the  temperate  regions,  particularly  wheat  and  rye.  The  Terri- 
tory claims  to  have  the  most  moral  and  industrious  settlers  in 
the  West,  and  the  meanest  politicians  in  the  world ;  and,  from 
what  I  saw,  I  think  the  claim  must  be  allowed.  About  one- 
third  of  the  Federal  officials  are  half  the  time  at  Washington, 
trying  to  get  another  third  removed.  The  remaining  third  are 
neutral ;  and,  like  political  neutrals  generally,  have  to  fight  both 
factions.  There  were  three  Republican  parties  and  a  faction  at 
my  last  visit;  and  the  political  heat  of  the  Nation  at  large  was 
as  the  balminess  of  a  May  morning,  compared  to  the  consuming 
wrath  of  Dakota  parties.  The  standard  of  morality  may  be 
guessed  from  the  fact  that  one  official  boasted  openly  of  the 
amount  of  money  he  had  made  as  Indian  Agent,  and  how,  clos- 
ing with  this  pithy  paraphrase  of  Lake  Erie  Perry,  "We  have 


^ 

77' 


699 


700 


ONE-LEGGED   FIGHT. 


PEOPLE  OF  PEMBINA,   AND   THEIR   OX-CARTS. 

met  the  Injins;  and  what  was  theirs  is  ours."  Another,  a 
Judge  of  the  Supreme  Court,  who  walks  on  two  cork-legs,  in  a 
public  speech  in  Yankton,  made  scandalous  charges  against  the 
wife  of  a  soldier  employed  in  the  Land  Office.  The  soldier, 
who  had  but  one  leg,  attacked  the  Judge  at  Vermilion  City, 
and  what  the  Sioux  City  Journal  characterized  as  a  "  One-legged 
Fight"  was  the  result.  The  first  onslaught  literally  knocked 
the  Judge  "  off  his  pins,"  and  the  soldier  falling  on  him,  loos- 
ened his  own  wooden  leg,  and  then  ensued  a  scene  which  called 
for  the  pen  of  a  "  Phoenix  "  and  the  pencil  of  a  Darley :  two 
manly  bodies  rolling  on  the  floor,  and  four  hands  clenched  or 
striking  wildly,  with  one  solitary  leg  attached.  Unfortunately, 
"  His  Honor  "  (?)  survived,  to  shed  further  luster  on  the  Federal 
Courts  of  Dakota. 

In  1868  the  Territory  had  five  candidates  for  Delegate  to 
Congress ;  and  out  of  5200  votes  the  successful  man  only  re- 
ceived some  1300.  Two  years  after,  there  were  but  three  can- 
didates, and  the  same  in  1872;  both  resulted  in  Hon.  M.  K. 
Armstrong,  Democrat,  being  elected,  in  spite  of  an  overwhelm- 


DAKOTA   POLITICIANS.  701 

ing  Republican  majority.  With  150,000  square  miles  of  surface, 
Dakota  has  the  population  of  an  average  county  in  Ohio ;  and 
most  men  would  not  consider  its  offices  worth  much.  The  sad 
fact  is  this  :  Government  cannot  afford  good  men  in  office  in 
most  of  the  Territories ;  the  salary  is  so  much  less  than  they 
can  make  at  any  legitimate  business.  With  this  pencil  I  can 
earn  a  salary  equal  to  that  of  any  Territorial  Governor;  a 
young  man  making  a  hundred  dollars  a  month  in  Cincinnati  is 
richer  than  the  Chief  Justice  of  Utah ;  and  the  Police  Judge 
of  Evansville,  Indiana,  makes  double  the  clear  money  of  the 
best  paid  official  from  Pembina  to  Arizona. 

And  worst  of  all,  when  they  try  to  do  their  duty,  they  are 
almost  certain  to  be  removed  before  they  learn  how.  For  an 
Eastern  man  is  worth  very  little  his  first  year  or  two  in  any 
Territory.  The  official,  if  honest,  is  exposed  to  a  constant 
pressure  from  those  ruled  over,  and  a  constant  war  on  the  Presi- 
dent to  have  him  removed.  If  he  had  no  care  but  doing  his 
duty,  he  would  still  have  trouble  enough ;  but  efficiency  and 
duty  are  no  dependence  upon  the  favor  of  the  Administration ; 
and  while  the  official  in  the  Territory  is  harassed  by  complaints, 
by  a  salary  insufficient  for  himself  and  family,  by  the  damning 
criticisms  or  equally  damning  overpraise  of  the  local  press,  he 
is  more  and  more  disquieted  by  notes  from  his  friends  at  Wash- 
ington, where  the  fiat  of  Executive  wrath  hangs  daily  over  his 
official  head,  like  the  ever  trembling  sword  of  Damocles  sus- 
pended by  a  single  hair.  There  are  men  in  every  Territorial 
capital  who  turn  uneasily  upon  their  beds  from  some  dark  hint 
in  the  evening  paper,  and  whose  matin  slumbers  are  disquieted 
by  anxiety  for  the  morning  paper  to  see  "  the  latest  from  Wash- 
ington." Let  certain  Members  and  Senators  die,  or  resign,  or 
be  defeated,  or  differ  with  the  President  on  some  pet  scheme, 
and  away  their  heads  would  go  like  pins  from  the  alley ;  and 
the  more  they  had  done  their  duty  the  more  they  might  expect 
decapitation.  That  a  man  who  already  lives  in  the  West  should 
want  an  office  there  seems  reasonable  enough  ;  but  that  one  who 
has  a  good  business  in  the  States  should  want  to  leave  it  for 
such  a  position  rather  puzzles  me. 


702 


OLD  FORT  BENTON— MONTANA. 


At  the  last  moment  our  party  decided  not  to  go  up  the  Mis- 
souri River,  as  the  shortest  time  any  steamer  could  promise  at 
this  season  was  ten  days,  and  we  might  be  much  longer  in 
reaching  the  North  Pacific  Railroad  crossing.  By  rail  through 
Minnesota  had  at  least  the  merit  of  certainty,  and  we,  therefore, 
left  Yankton  at  daybreak  on  the  12th,  by  the  steamer  Key 
West,  which  had  lain  at  the  landing  all  night;  for  steamers, 
for  the  most  part,  only  run  by  daylight  or  bright  moonlight 
everywhere  above  Sioux  City.  This  was  the  best  season  ever 
known  for  boating  on  the  Upper  Missouri,  and  boats  were 
able  to  reach  Benton,  Montana  Territory,  until  September. 
Three  years  out  of  four,  Benton  can  not  be  reached  later  than 
the  first  of  August,  and  often  only  during  the  "June  rise." 

The  Key  West  had  been  this  trip  to  Fort  Peck,  from  which 
point  there. is  a  tolerably  good  wagon  road  to  Helena  and  all 
Eastern  Montana.  Her  capacity  is  four  hundred  .tons,  about 
the  largest  boat  employed  in  this  navigation ;  as  the  tortuous 
and  shifting  channel  of  the  Missouri  requires  steamers  of  very 


TOPOGRAPHY.  703 

light  draught  and  peculiar  construction.  On  her  up  trip  she 
carried  groceries  and  machinery  /or  the  mining  camps  of 
Eastern  Montana,  as  also  supplies  for  the  military  posts  along 
the  river;  down  stream  she  was  lightly  loaded,  but  had  a  fair 
complement  of  passengers,  mostly  from  the  "  Crossing/7  as  the 
point  where  the  North  Pacific  Railroad  strikes  the  river  is 
generally  known  in  the  Northwest.  The  boat  preceding  the 
Key  West  carried  thirty  Indians  from  the  Sioux  bands  above, 
going  down  to  Washington,  for  one  of  those  periodical  "Talks 
with  the  Great  Father." 

By  stage  from  Yankton  to  Sioux  City  is  sixty-five  miles,  and 
the  fare  $6.50 ;  by  steamer,  the  distance  is  a  hundred  and  fifty, 
and  the  fare  fifty  cents  less,  with  the  added  advantage  of  three 
or  four  meals,  and  conveniences  for  sleeping  and  reading.  The 
time  is  just  as  it  happens:  you  must  start  when  the  boat  is 
ready,  and  take  your  chances  on  board,  sometimes  getting 
through  in  ten  hours,  sometimes  in  thirty.  We  made  splendid 
time  all  forenoon,  the  low  clay  banks  receding  so  rapidly  that 
their  natural  ugliness  was  changed  to  a  swiftly  gliding  view  of 
something  nearly  like  beauty.  The  water  is  a  little  thicker 
than  cream,  but  not  quite  as  thick  as  plaster,  and  of  a  dirty 
yellow  color,  its  solid  contents  consisting  of  nearly  equal  parts 
of  fine  clay  and  silt;  but  when  taken  aboard  and  settled,  it  is 
very  palatable.  Immediately  on  ^he  river,  the  timber  is  small 
and  scrubby,  but  a  mile  or  so  back  are  fine  forests  of  good- 
sized  trees,  extending  a  mile  or  two  in  width,  and  behind  them 
the  richest  prairie  "  bottom "  in  the  world,  varying  in  width 
from  five  to  twenty  miles,  and  yielding  to  gentle  foot-hills  and 
wooded  bluffs.  In  three  or  four  places  the  river  spreads  to  a 
mile  or  more  in  width,  broken  by  sand-bars  and  low  islands ; 
there  the  boat  usually  stuck  fast  for  a  while,  till  the  hands 
could  "pole  off,"  when  she  would  back  out  and  try  another 
channel,  and  then  another,  till  one  was  found  passable. 

On  such  occasions  the  captain  cheered  us  up  with  appropriate 
remarks :  "  D — d  channel  was  on  that  side  when  I  came  up. 
Thought  the  river  would  take  a  sky-wash  around  the  other 
way,  judging  from  the  set  agin  that  bluff.  But  there's  nothing 


704  "  SIOUX  CITY." 

impossible  under  this  Administration.  Howsomever,  we'll 
reach  Sioux  City  by  5  o'clock,  if  we  don't  fall  down/'  which 
last  I  judge  to  be  a  facetious  reference  to  our  sparring  off  with 
the  "  boat's  crutches."  But  we  did  "  fall  down  "  just  at  noon, 
running  hard  aground  on  the  head  of  a  sand-island.  Then 
oaths,  spars,  "  nigger-engine "  and  all  the  other  available 
machinery  was  set  in  operation ;  and  after  two  hours  of  swear- 
ing, bell  ringing,  and  toil,  the  stern  was  got  far  enough  into 
the  current  to  swing  around ;  then  all  control  of  it  was  lost, 
and  that  end  grounded  below.  Then  the  bow  was  shoved  off, 
swung  around  and  stuck  again ;  then  the  stern  made  a  half- 
circle  swing,  and  thus  on,  in  a  series  of  swings  and  "  drags," 
over  half-sunken  trees,  the  boat  groaning  through  all  her 
timbers  like  a  thing  possessed,  we  made  a  final  swing  off  the 
lower  end  of  the  island,  and  floated  on.  When  they  spar  thus 
on  both  sides,  they  are  said  to  "  grasshopper  over."  Such  is 
boating  on  the  Upper  Missouri. 

We  reached  Sioux  City  at  9  P.  M.,  sixteen  hours  from  Yank- 
ton,  and  early  next  morning  took  the  Dubuque  and  Sioux  City 
Railroad  for  the  "  Junction,"  so-called,  though  there  was  no 
junction  yet.  The  Sioux  City  and  St. 'Paul  Railroad  track 
was  then  within  ten  miles  of  the  Dubuque  and  Sioux  City  line, 
which  gap  passengers  traversed  by  stage.  The  Dubuque  and 
Sioux  City  Railroad  is  known  everywhere  in  Iowa  as  the 
Illinois  Central,  being  leased  by  that  company.  It  runs  north- 
east from  Sioux  City  for  twenty-five  miles,  to  Le  Mars, 
whence  the  Sioux  City  and  St.  Paul  continues  in  a  northeast 
direction.  For  twenty-five  miles  they  are  to  use  the  same 
track.  The  last-named  road  results  from  the  union  of  two 
companies :  one  building  the  Sioux  City  and  St.  Paul  road, 
northeastward  from  the  former  city,  the  other  the  St.  Paul 
and  Sioux  City  road  from  the  last  city.  They  meet  at 
the  State  Line,  and  were  completed  in  two  weeks  after  I 


We  traveled  all  afternoon  over  a  country  with  the  same 
general  character:  a  high  rolling  prairie,  without  sloughs,  with 
very  rich  soil  and  rank  grass,  but  no  timber  in  sight.  The 


"MINNESOTA."  705 

"  summit  level  "  between  the  waters  running  northward  and 
southward  abounds  in  lakes,  but  before  3  P.  M.  we  got  down 
upon  the  slopes  leading  to  the  Minnesota  River,  and  soon 
thereafter  left  the  "  Land  of  the  Sleepyheads  "  for  the  land  of 
"Blue  Waters" — Minnesota. 

45 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

MINNESOTA. 

My  stepmother— An  impecunious  youth— Trials  of  poverty— I  drive  for  excur- 
sion parties — Not  a  success — My  Canadian  friends — Return  home — Mankato — 
Crystal  Lake — Garden  City — The  cabin  of  my  friends — My  old  employer — 
Down  to  St.  Paul— The  State  Fair— Northward  by  rail— Lumbermen— Big 
Lake — St.  Cloud — Sauk  Rapids — Great  water-power — Northward  stage — The 
Lady  Superior — Belle  Prairie — Converting  Indians — We  reach  Brainerd. 

INNESOTA  was  my  fair  but  cruel  stepmother.  For  in 
that  new  State  I  made  my  first  independent  venture 
away  from  home;  and  some  reminescences  of  my  life  there 
might  serve  as  lessons  to  the  young  and  ardent.  In 
May,  1859,  I  first  became  a  "Gopher"  —  practical 
Western  title  of  the  Minnesotians.  On  the  2d  of  that  month  I 
left  Rockville,  Indiana,  with  the  magnificent  sum  of  $33.50  in 
my  pockets.  I  was  just  out  of  college,  in  miserable  health,  and 
as  ignorant  of  business  as  it  is  possible  to  conceive.  I  had  never 
been  away  from  home  alone,  and  fancied  the  above  sum  would 
amply  suffice,  until  I  could  get  something  to  do;  reached  St. 
Paul  on  the  24th  of  May,  and  next  day  struck  out  northward 
with  $8.50  of  my  cash  still  on  hand. 

Then  was  the  very  worst  period  of  the  noted  "hard  times" 
in  this  State.  It  had  been  settled  with  the  usual  humbug  and 
hurrah  of  the  "glorious,  free  and  boundless  West,"  in  1856  and 
1857;  everything  was  selling  at  three  or  four  times  its  actual 
value,  and  every  second  man  was  a  millionaire  in  town  lots. 
Most  of  the  people  had  come  by  neighborhoods  from  New  York 
and  New  England,  and  freely  indorsed  for  each  other  to  any 
desired  extent.  The  crash  came  and  they  were  like  a  row  of 
bricks,  each  one  knocking  down  the  next  all  around  the  circle. 
In  June,  1857,  everybody  was  rich ;  in  October  they  gazed  upon 
706 


MISFORTUNES. 


707 


the  ruin  of  their  paper  houses,  and  every  man  rushed  off  to  his 
lawyer  to  sue  his  neighbor,  compromise  with  his  creditors,  or 
"  put  his  property  out  of  his  hands."  Every  important  town 
got  into  a  squabble  about  the  title  to  the  town  site,  and  lawyers 
reaped  big  harvests  in  fee  bills  ;  but  could  not  get  the  cash,  and 
were  dunned  by  the  washerwoman  with  thousands  in  unpaid 
bills  in  their  desks.  The  laws  of  two  Legislatures  conflicted ; 
one  Judge  overruled  or  denied  the  jurisdiction  of  another  Judge; 
Courts  of  Equity  in  the  afternoon  enjoined  proceedings  directed 
by  Courts  of  Law  in  the  fore- 
noon ;  injunctions  and  re- 
straining orders  tied  up  every- 
thing and  everybody,  and  the 
weary  way  of  contending 
claimants  for  town  sites  lay 
across  a  pocket- wasting  desert 
of  litigation,  diversified  at  in- 
tervals by  mountains  of  fee 
bills,  and  graveled  with  cer- 
tiorariSj  nisi  primes,  and 
writs  of  error.  The  Demo- 
cratic Legislature  of  1858 
burdened  the  young  State 
with  an  enormous  debt,  which 
the.  succeeding  Legislature 
(Republican)  repudiated;  and, 
I  believe,  most  of  it  is  yet 
unpaid. 

On  all  this  came  the  grass- 
hoppers. The  crop  of  1856  was  half  destroyed,  and  the  next 
year  every  green  thing,  and  every  head  of  ripe  grain,  was  eaten 
clean;  the  insects  leaving  the  country  black  and  bare  behind 
them.  In  1858  a  tolerable  crop  was  raised,  but  everything  that 
could  be  sold  had  to  go  to  pay  taxes  and  judgments  of  foreign 
creditors,  and  when  I  arrived  the  people  were  living  on  what 
they  could  not  sell,  to  wit:  corn -bread,  potatoes  and  "green 
truck,"  to  which,  in  the  country,  was  generally  added  milk  and 


THE   AUTHOR,   BEING    IN    FEEBLE 
HEALTH,  GOES  TO  MINNESOTA. 


708 


HARD   WORK — POOR    PAY. 


butter — a  wonderful  help.  For  six  weeks  I  worked  for  my 
board — not  a  cent  of  wages — for  one  man  in  Wright  County ; 
and  the  whole  time  never  tasted  tea,  coffee,  flour-bread,  meat, 
or  any  one  of  the  things  we  consider  "square  feed"  in  Indiana. 
Our  standard  living  was  corn-bread,  "  Dutch  cheese/'  butter 
and  milk,  to  which,  on  Saturdays,  was  added  a  mess  of  fish 
from  the  lake,  when  work  was  not  too  pressing;  and  after 
strawberries  and  wild  tomatoes  came  in  the  whole  family  usually 
took  to  the  prairie  on  Sunday  and  "  browsed."  The  income 

that   year   was    mostly   from 
the  sale  of  ginseng. 

I  had  walked  nearly  a 
hundred  miles  northward 
from  St.  Paul  looking  for  a 
school ;  turned  back  from 
Princeton,  (ha  last  settlement, 
and  crossed  the  Mississippi  to 
Wright  County,  being  re- 
duced to  my  last  half  dollar 
before  I  began  at  board  wages. 
From  there  I  footed  it  to  St. 
Paul,  and  got  work  in  Ford's 
nursery  at  forty  cents  a  day  ! 
At  the  end  of  ten  days  all  the 
"little  men"  were  discharged 
for  larger  men,  who  "  would 
do  more  and  work  cheaper." 
EEBLE  IN  A  party  of  us  decided  to  go 
south  till  we  got  to  where 
harvest  was  ripe,  then  har- 
vest northward  with  the  season.  In  pursuance  of  this  plan,  I 
sold  all  my  clothes  I  could  not  carry  in  a  hand  valise,  and  thus 
raised  money  enough  to  go  two  hundred  miles  up  the  Minne- 
sota River  to  Blue  Earth  County.  Striking  south  from  Man- 
kato,  I  found  the  harvest  ripe  and  spoiling  for  hands ;  but  to 
my  application  the  uniform  answer  was,  "Not  a  cent  o'  money; 
can  pay  you  in  lumber  or  wheat."  Lumber  and  wheat  would 


POCKET,    RETURNS    FROM    MIN- 
NESOTA. 


SOCIAL    DISTINCTIONS.  709 

not  pay  my  passage  out  of  Minnesota,  whence  I  had  resolved  to 
go  before  cold  weather,  and  it  was  then  the  second  week  in 
August. 

Finally,  one  William  Long,  near  Garden  City,  "  thought  he 
could  raise  five  dollars  %re  I'd  want  to  leave."  I  helped  him 
harvest  and  make  hay,  but  the  money  he  could  not  raise. 
Thence  I  went  up  the  Watonwan  River,  and  shoveled  gravel 
on  a  mill-dam  for  forty  cents  a  day  ;  but  gave  out  the  third  day, 
minus  some  ten  square  inches  of  palm  cuticle.  Then  I  tried  a 
livery  stable ;  drove  carriage  and  the  like  for  excursionists  vis- 
iting the  country,  for  some  two  weeks,  when,  to  my  surprise,  I 
was  peremptorily  discharged.  Being  but  a  boy,  I  lacked  the 
judgment  to  keep  still,  and  often  entered  freely  into  conversation 
with  my  passengers,  without  knowing  just  how  to  assume  that 
naturally  deferential  air  which  is  thought  to  be  due  from  him 
who  holds  the  reins  to  the  one  who  sits  beside  or  behind  him. 

For,  if  you  imagine,  kind  reader,  that  political  equality  makes 
social,  or  civil,  or  any  other  kind  of  equality,  you  only  demon- 
strate that  you  are  an  innocent  pastoral  in  the  dry  fields  of 
politics  and  social  philosophy  ;  and  that  you  are  almost  as  ignor- 
ant as  was  your  servant,  the  writer,  at  the  age  of  nineteen,  in 
the  year  of  grace  1859.  In  a  variety  of  positions  I  have  since 
discovered  that  social  distinctions  are  as  natural  and  inevitable 
under  a  republican  as  a  monarchical  government;  and  when, 
during  the  "  Reconstruction  Period,"  the  souls  of  the  fearful 
were  disquieted  by  the  sleep-murdering  spectre  of  "negro 
equality,"  I  was  calm  as  a  summer  morning.  For  I  reasoned 
with  myself  thus:  Have  I  not  been  a  servant,  and  an  employe 
in  many  positions ;  and  do  I  not  know  that  voting  never  pro- 
duced any  social  equality  among  whites?  How,  then,  can  it 
between  whites  and  blacks? 

But  I  digress.  My  freedom  offended  somebody,  and  thereby 
I  lost  my  lucrative  position.  Moral  :  Never  know  more  than 
your  business  demands. 

After  that  I  went  wild,  so  to  speak,  and  lived  awhile  with 
two  Canadian  half-breeds  on  the  shore  of  Loon  Lake.  We 
worked  in  their  little  patch  about  half  of  each  day,  hunted  and 


710  GOOD    FARM   LAND   IN   MINNESOTA. 

fished  the  rest  of  the  time,  lived  on  game  and  corn  bread,  and 
made  the  night  hideous,  often  till  the  "  small  hours/'  with  our 
songs,  dances,  and  barbarous  patois.  I  lost  my  hat  the  first 
night  I  was  with  them  ;  hadn't  a  cent  to  buy  another ;  went 
without  two  weeks  or  so,  and  got  as  brown  as  a  hazel-nut. 
Loon  Lake  was  then  the  western  limit  of  settlement ;  now  the 
railroad  passes  only  four  miles  west  of  where  our  cabin  stood, 
and  the  population  of  the  county  has  grown  from  five  to  twenty- 
two  thousand. 

Late  in  September  Mr.  Long  borrowed  five  dollars  from  a 
Mr.  Baker,  formerly  Auditor  of  State  in  Ohio,  and  then  a  can- 
didate for  the  same  office  in  Minnesota ;  paid  the  sum  to  me, 
and  I  struck  out  afoot  for  St.  Paul.  Strange  to  say,  my  health 
rapidly  improved  through  all  my  ups  and  downs,  and  I  had 
become  reconciled  to  staying  in  Minnesota.  But  the  new  State 
just  then  did  not  want  men  without  capital,  unless  they  had  an 
immense  amount  of  muscle,  and  were  willing  to  use  it  for  little 
or  nothing. 

In  these  new  countries  it  is  pure  Darwinism — "  natural  selec- 
tion and  survival  of  the  fittest."  I  was  not  the  fittest,  and  did 
not  survive  as  a  citizen  of  Minnesota ;  but  returned  quite  con- 
tentedly to  my  college,  and  there  remained  till  I  was  of  age, 
when  the  war  gave  me  another  opportunity  to  leave  home  with 
credit. 

I  thought  Minnesota  the  most  beautiful  State  in  the  Union ; 
and  during  the  short  farming  season,  it  is  certainly  the  nicest 
State  to  farm  in.  I  speak  of  the  mere  pleasure  of  working  in 
the  ground.  The  land  is  never  water-soaked,  never  "  bakes," 
and  I  never  saw  a  clod  as  big  as  my  fist.  There  is  no  "  sour 
clay"  land;  it  is  nearly  all  black  and  loose,  with  just  sufficient 
mixture  of  sand  to  make  it  warm  rapidly  and  pulverize  beauti- 
fully. The  season  in  spring  is  astonishingly  rapid. 

There  are  many  popular  errors  as  to  the  comparative  advan- 
tages of  warm  and  cold  climates.  Carolinians  think  it  cold 
enough  where  they  are,  and  a  little  too  sharp  in  Virginia;  the 
F.  F.  Vs  wonder  how  the  farmer  can  get  through  the  winters 
in  New  York;  while  the  Yankee  shudders  as  he  thinks  of  the 


CLIMATE.  711 

hard  fate  of  the  "Canucks"  and  "Blue-noses"  of  British 
America.  But  in  these  Northern  latitudes  people  know  just 
what  is  coming,  and  prepare  for  it ;  there  will  be  no  let-up  from 
the  middle  of  November  to  the  middle  of  April,  and  winter 
travel  is  even  more  important  and  better  provided  for  than 
summer.  In  Ben  ton  county,  Minnesota,  in  the  winter  of 
1871-2,  they  had  a  hundred  and  thirty-four  days  continuous 
sleighing.  The  winters  are  long,  cold  and  dry ;  the  river  forms 
ice  three  or  four  feet  thick,  supporting  the  heaviest  teams  safely  ; 
no  "  January  thaw  "  need  be  apprehended,  and  it  is  the  unani- 
mous testimony  of  young  people  that  they  enjoy  the  winters 
much  more  than  the  summers.  The  snow  remains  till  about 
April  1  or  10,  then  disappears  all  at  once,  apparently;  the 
ground  is  dry  in  a  week,  and  summer  succeeds  winter  so  rapidly 
as  to  leave  scarcely  a  month  for  the  intervening  spring.  The 
local  records  show  that  the  Minnesota  seasons  should  be  divided 
thus:  winter,  five  months;  spring,  one  month;  summer,  four 
months ;  and  autumn,  two  months.  The  soil  will  be  found  to 
suit  the  climate.  If  this  section  had  the  heavy  clays  of  Southern 
Indiana,  it  would  produce  nothing;  but  with  the  prevailing 
black  sandy  loam  the  crops  are  immense.  "  Snow  is  the  poor 
man's  manure,"  and  the  soil  that  is  frozen  hardest  in  winter  will 
pulverize  finest  in  summer.  Here,  after  twenty-four  hours'  rain, 
the  plowman  returns  to  his  work  without  waiting  for  a  "dry- 
up  ; "  and  in  the  haste  of  spring  work  they  frequently  "  break 
up  "  the  south  slopes  while  the  snow  is  still  lying  on  the  north 
slopes.  Wheat,  rye,  buckwheat,  turnips  and  potatoes  are  the 
leading  productions.  In  the  first  and  last  Minnesota  leads  the 
world.  From  two  to  four  hundred  bushels  per  acre  is  the  yield 
of  potatoes.  The  Sank  Valley  particularly  excels  in  this  line, 
and  in  1859  several  fields  exceeded  the  last  figures.  It  used  to 
be  said  at  that  time  that  they  "grew  as  thick  in  the  entire 
ground,  for  a  foot  deep,  as  their  round  shape  would  permit  them 
to  lie ;  and  if  some  one  could  invent  a  square  or  brick-shaped 
variety,  the  whole  soil  might  be  grown  to  a  solid  mass  of 
potatoes ! " 

The  summer  heat  is  intense  for  about  one  month,  during 


712 


THE   WEATHER.  713 

which  time  the  black,  sandy  soil  will  blister  the  bare  feet.  In 
the  early  spring  a  single  warm  day  will  keep  the  crops  growing 
two  or  three  days  of  cold  winds.  In  June,  at  the  point  where 
I  resided,  the  sun  shone  nearly  sixteen  hours  a  day ;  and  the 
early  and  late  twilight  made  the  day  last  from  3.20  A.  M.  till 
8.40  P.  M.  During  the  latter  part  of  that  month  the  prairie 
wind  alone  tempered  the  air  sufficiently  for  us  to  work ;  and  if 
it  fell  dead  calm  even  for  an  hour  we  generally  "  fell"  with  it — 
in  the  shade.  I  kept  a  regular  diary  that  year,  and  the  follow- 
ing extracts  will  indicate  the  rapidity  of  the  seasons: 

"May  25 — Cold  rain,  chilly  winds. 

"May  28 — Clear  and  cool. 

"May  30 — Pleasant,  and  gaining  warmth. 

"June  5 — Settled  summer  weather. 

"June  15 — Prairie  flowers  all  in  bloom. 

"  June  25 — Intense  heat ;  strawberries  nearly  formed.  Heavy 
thunder  shower,  with  most  vivid  lightning,  just  after  sunset; 
cooled  the  air  considerably. 

"  July  4 — A  cooling  rain.  All  families  in  the  township  gath- 
ered at  house  of  J.  Smith  ;  had  music,  some  dancing,  and  a 
dinner  of 'ham,  eggs  and  rice-pudding — quite  a  treat  for  Minne- 
sota. 

"July  8 — Very  hot  weather  again;  strawberries  beginning 
to  turn. 

"July  12 — First  mess  of  ripe  strawberries. 

"July  14 — Early  vegetables  begin  to  be  used. 

"  August  1 — Hottest  weather  seems  to  be  past.  Learn  that 
harvest  is  ripe  in  the  southern  counties,  and  conclude  to  start 

"August  20— (In  Blue- Earth  County)— Finished  cutting 
wheat;  fine  crop,  but  no  market.  Early  roasting-ears;  can- 
teloupes  ripe  on  east  side  of  Blue- Earth  River. 

"September  1 — Making  marsh  hay.  Corn  hardening  fast; 
all  kinds  of  melons  ripe,  and  most  gone. 

"  September  18 — Heavy  frost,  apparently  all  over  the  county, 
destroying  buckwheat;  no  other  crop  particularly  injured. 
Nights  getting  very  cool. 

"  September  28 — Thin  ice  on  water ;  thermometer  down  to 


714  OLD   FRIENDS. 

28°  this  morning.  Splendid  appetite ;  weigh  ten  pounds  more 
than  when  I  came  to  Minnesota.  Started  afoot  for  St.  Paul." 

The  crops  were  good  that  year,  but  there  was  no  market,  and 
the  people  continued  poor.  The  past  season  farmers  in  that 
county  paid  from  three  to  four  dollars  per  day  for  harvest  hands, 
and  found  a  ready  market  at  good  prices  in  Mankato. 

On  nearing  that  place  I  was  anxious  to  see  some  of  my  old 
acquaintances  in  poverty,  and  left  the  railroad  at  the  beautiful 
village  of  Lake  Crystal — so  named  from  the  pretty  sheet  of 
water,  four  miles  west  of  Loon  Lake.  I  made  the  best  of  time 
to  the  spot  where  my  Canadians'  cabin  used  to  stand,  but  not  a 
trace  of  it  was  visible.  The  very  tree  under  which  I  used  to 
sit  I  could  identify;  but  the  whole  neighboring  region,  then  an 
unbroken  prairie,  is  now  parceled  out  in  splendid  farms,  and 
beautifully  improved  with  neat  cottages  and  tasteful  gardens.  I 
hunted  the  "  oldest  settler,"  who  told  me  with  some  pride  that 
he  had  been  here  ten  years.  (Bah  !  what  a  set  of  moderns  they 
are,  compared  with  "  us  pioneers  !  ")  He  had  heard  of  my  two 
friends  :  one  of  them  went  to  Nebraska  with  the  Winnebagoes, 
when  they  were  removed  from  here  ten  years  ago  ;  and  the  other 
joined  the  First  Minnesota,  and  "  was  never  heard  of  after  Bull 
Run."  Proceeding  on  to  Garden  City,  I  found  that  I  was  "in- 
deed a  stranger  in  the  land."  My  old  employer  was  still  there, 
but  he  had  been  on  the  losing  side  in  the  long  drawn  out  legal 
fight  over  the  town  site,  and  was  now  poorer  than  then,  if 
possible. 

Much  to  my  regret  I  found  that  the  railroad  had  missed  most 
of  my  old  friends ;  the  country  had  improved,  but  they  had 
lost  heart  in  the  long,  early  struggle,  and  did  not  profit  by  the 
change.  Said  Mr.  Long  to  me,  as  we  sat  at  his  table  next 
morning,  "It  was  mighty  tight  times  with  us,  gittin7  thro7  the 
winter  after  you  left  (1859-60).  It  jest  seemed  like  we  must 
go  under  sometimes.  Then  when  all  had  got  a  good  start  came 
the  Sioux  Massacre,  in  1862,  and  ruined  us  agin.  I  fit  one 
whole  day  at  New  Ulm.  It  was  awful.  There  was  seven 
hundred  women  and  children  in  the  one  big  stone  hotel,  and 
them  Dutch,  as  didn't  know  how  to  load  and  fire  a  gun,  hid  in 


"HARD  TIMES." 


715 


ST.  PAUL. 

cellars  all  around,  and  about  sixty  of  us  fightin'  a  thousand 
Soos;  they  had  us  completely  whipt,  if  they'd  only  known  it. 
Kept  burnin'  the  town  as  they  come  in.  Folks  moved  up  here 
on  Blue  Earth  River  and  back  again  to  the  fort  at  Mankato, 
four  or  five  times  that  fall.  Some  family  murdered  every  time, 
and  then  they'd  all  run  back.  Killed  the  Jewetts  only  two 
miles  from  me."  And  so  ran  the  report  of  most  of  my  old 
friends :  part  killed  by  the  Sioux,  part  died  in  the  army,  many 
moved  back  East  before  the  "  hard  times"  were  over,  and  of 
all  the  pioneers  not  one  in  ten  remained.  The  little  schoolmis- 
tress from  Maine,  who  was  then  the  only  belle  in  our  neighbor- 
hood, with  another  young  lady  and  two  young  men  of  my 
acquaintance,  were  murdered  by  the  Sioux  quite  late  in  1862, 
and  long  after  the  trouble  was  thought  to  be  over. 

The  Winnebago  Reservation,  twenty-three  miles  by  thirteen, 
then  unbroken  by  the  plow,  is  now  a  rich  and  populous  farming 


716  ST.  PAUL. 

district ;  and  Mankato,  then  a  straggling  village  of  six  or  eight 
hundred,  is  now  a  flourishing  city  of  five  thousand  people.  But 
the  effects  of  the  "hard  times"  of  1857-59  still  remain  in  many 
places,  in  the  shape  of  interminable  lawsuits,  unsettled  titles, 
broken  fortunes,  neighborhood  feuds,  and  men  whose  energy  is 
gone  and  their  temper  soured  by  disappointment ;  many  a  Min- 
nesota woman  is  prematurely  old  from  the  troubles  of  that 
period,  and  even  in  the  faces  of  those  I  then  knew  as  children 
I  fancy  I  can  see  some  pinching  lines  which  ought  not  to  mark 
the  visage  of  blooming  youth,  unpleasing  reminders  of  a  child- 
hood passed  without  its  natural  pleasures,  and  often  stinted 
because  of  parental  poverty. 

Thence  to  St.  Paul,  down  the  beautiful  and  fertile  valley  of 
the  Minnesota,  I  saw,  every  where  delightful  evidences  of  a  great 
improvement  since  I  footed  it  along  the  same  line  in  September, 
1859.  Hamlets  then  are  large  towns  now ;  unimportant 
towns  have  grown  to  cities.  Everywhere  was  heard  the  hum 
of  busy  life  and  Yankee  industry;  and  mingled  with  it,  just  at 
that  time,  was  the  roar  of  political  excitement.  St.  Paul  aston- 
ished me.  Except  near  the  river  I  recognized  none  of  the 
places  familiar  in  my  memory.  Twenty  thousand  visitors  were 
in  the  city,  attending  the  State  Fair;  and  on  the  grounds  were 
specimens  of  vegetation  from  every  spot  for  seven  hundred 
miles,  north  and  west.  Notable  among  these  were  bunches  of 
wild  rice  from  the  northern  lakes ;  monster  turnips  and  beets 
from  the  line  of  the  Northern  Pacific;  native  grass  from  Red 
River  Valley,  four  feet  long,  and  wheat  grown  at  Fort  Garry, 
Red  River  Settlement,  B.  A.,  which  yielded  seventy  bushels 
per  acre.  St.  Paul  is  in  the  southeastern  corner,  and  is  the 
natural  entrepot  of  a  wheat-growing  region  four  hundred  miles 
square.  Fertile  land  continues  to  a  point  two  hundred  miles 
north  of  our  national  boundary ;  there  a  sandy  desert  sets  in, 
and  continues  to  the  Arctic  Circle. 

Our  party  continued  to  change  the  programme  at  each  suc- 
cessive point  of  departure,  as  the  latest  intelligence  continued 
to  grow  more  discouraging  in  regard  to  the  Missouri  River  navi- 
gation. The  final  plan  was  to  go  up  the  eastern  side  of  the 


ST.    ANTHONY. 


717 


FALLS  OF   ST.    AXTIIOXY. 

Mississippi,  by  rail  and  stage,  to  Brainerd  ;  thence  westward  to 
the  terminus  of  the  Northern  Pacific,  and  perhaps  into  the  Bad 
Lands,  then  eastward  to  Duluth,  and  down  again  to  St.  Paul. 
Accordingly,  on  the  evening  of  the  19th,. after  a  day  on  the  State 
Fair  Grounds,  I  took  the  up  train  on  the  Brainerd  Branch  of 
the  St.  Paul  and  Pacific  Railroad.  The  main  line  crosses  the 
Mississippi .  at  St.  Anthony — vulgato  voce,  "  S'nanthony  " — and 
Minneapolis,  whence  it  maintains  a  general  course  northwest, 
being  completed  to  Breckinridge,  at  a  point  on  Red  River  fifty 
miles  south  of  the  North  Pacific  Railroad  crossing.  Besides 
these  lines,  that  which  is  popularly  known  as  the  Pembina 
Branch  crosses  the  Mississippi  at  St.  Cloud,  and  runs  westward 
some  twenty  miles  into  Stearns  County.  Along  the  very  line 
where,  in  May,  1859,  I  footed  it,  valise  in  hand,  I  enjoy  the 
comforts  of  a  first-class  passenger  car,  and  find  St.  Cloud,  then 


718  "LOGGING  CAMPS." 

the  northern  limit  of  white  occupation,  now  a  flourishing  city 
of  some  two  thousand  people,  and  considered  rather  in  the  cen- 
tral part  of  the  State. 

For  a  few  miles  out  of  St.  Paul  the  country  is  not  very  at- 
tractive, that  county  (Ramsey)  being  the  least  important  agri- 
culturally in  Central  Minnesota.  It  is  rather  hilly,  for  the  most 
part,  with  a  light  sandy  soil ;  but  the  advance  in  real  estate  near 
St.  Paul  has  been  remarkable — about  300  per  cent,  within  the 
last  five  years,  and  over  1000  per  cent,  since  1859.  Our  long 
train  of  passenger  cars  was  densely  crowded,  all  the  standing 
room  taken,  with  people  returning  from  the  State  Fair;  but 
most  of  them  left  us  at'  the  St.  Anthony  Junction.  From  there 
northward  the  country  rapidly  grows  more  beautiful  and  fertile, 
presenting  that  strange  feature  of  the  Minnesota  landscape  known 
as  "  oak  openings."  A  traveler  from  the  East  is  apt  to  fancy 
himself  in  an  old  orchard,  the  trees  being  scattered  about  in  the 
same  proportion,  very  little  larger  and  with  coarse  grass  between 
them.  These  openings,  alternating  with  clear  prairie,  form  the 
landscape  for  about  a  hundred  miles  northward,  then  the  heavy 
pine  forests  begin  and  extend  from  one  to  two  hundred  miles 
farther.  All  the  main  affluents  of  the  Mississippi  from  the  east 
take  their  rise  in  these  forests,  and  form  natural  channels  by 
which  the  lumber  is  brought  to  market.  The  lumbermen  spend 
the  long  winter  in  the  "  logging  camps,"  getting  out  and  hauling 
the  logs  to  the  nearest  stream  ;  then,  when  the  spring  rise  oc- 
curs, each  company  comes  do\vn  on  a  "  drive,"  hunting  such 
logs  as  have  lodged  along  the  way,  and  giving  them  a  fresh 
start  in  the  current.  Every  "boss"  has  his  own  particular 
mark  cut  in  the  bark ;  and  the  whole  mass  is  caught  in  the  va- 
rious "  booms  "  near  St.  Paul,  formed  into  immense  rafts,  and 
taken  down  the  Mississippi.  In  1859,  when  I  lived  upon  the 
banks  of  that  river,  in  Wright  County,  there  were  never  less 
than  a  hundred  logs  in  sight,  and  we  generally  knew  of  a  coming 
"  drive  "  a  day  or  two  beforehand,  by  the  increase  of  "  floaters." 
The  business  is  always  hard  and  laborious,  sometimes  very  dan- 
gerous; for  occasionally  logs  will  catch  on  the  head  of  a  low, 
rocky  island,  and  form  a  "jam,"  containing  many  thousands. 


MINNESOTA   AND   HER   LAKES.  719 

In  such  a  case  several  "  drives  "  often  unite ;  there  is  generally 
what  is  called  a  "  key-log,"  and  by  attaching  a  rope  thereto 
the  whole  mass  is  loosened.  Climbing  over  the  "jam/*  hunting 
for  this  "  key-log,"  and  loosening  it,  is  a  most  perilous  business, 
as  the  whole  mass  often  gives  away  at  once,  and  rolls  down  into 
the  water  in  a  few  minutes.  I  saw  a  "jam"  just  above  the 
Copperhead  Rapids,  near  Anoka,  which  was  estimated  as  con- 
taining 25,000  logs,  and  the  loosening  of  a  single  one  freed  the 
entire  mass.  Travelers  coming  down  the  river  often  made  use 
of  these  logs,  and  in  July,  1859,  I  made  forty-five  miles  in  one 
day,  on  two  I  had  pinned  together,  using  a  pole  and  paddle  for 
steering.  Quincy,  Illinois,  was  then  the  great  market  for  this 
lumber. 

Anoka,  at  the  mouth  of  Rum  River,  which  was  a  modest 
hamlet  when  I  last  saw  it,  now  appeared  from  the  car  windows 
to  be  a  thriving  place  of  at  least  two  thousand  people.  Thence 
northward  to  Big  Lake  we  traverse  a  gently  rolling  prairie, 
diversified  occasionally  with  "  oak  openings,"  and  dotted  with 
those  clear,  white-bottomed  lakes  which  add  such  a  charm  to 
Minnesota.  The  State  has  ten  thousand  lakes,  varying  in  size 
from  five  acres  to  five  miles  square.  In  every  part  of  America, 
as  will  be  seen  by  a  glance  at  the  map,  the  lake  region  is  on  the 
"summit  level,"  the  reason  of  which  is  easily  seen.  Minnesota 
is  on  the  great  "summit  level"  of  the  continent,  her  waters 
flow  out  in  four  different  directions  ;  hence  there  are  more  lakes 
here,  probably,  than  in  all  the  other  States.  But  even  here  the 
process  of  natural  drainage  still  goes  on  to  a  slight  extent; 
lakes  are  becoming  marshes,  and  marshes  slowly  receding  to 
"water-meadows,"  and  I  find  that  two  or  three  considerable 
flats  of  shallow  water  I  knew  in  1859  are  now  dry. 

I  stopped  a  day  at  Big  Lake,  as  it  was  in  the  nighborhood  I 
formerly  ranged.  Monticello  is  just  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
river  in  Wright  County,  and  near  there  I  worked  on  one  farm 
some  six  weeks ;  but  of  all  the  Americans  I  knew  there,  not 
one  remains.  My  old  employer,  Mr.  Randall  Smith,  served 
through  the  war  as  a  captain,  then  settled  in  the  South,  "tired 
of  a  country  where  ye  have  to  feed  stock  seven  months  in  the 


720  EARLY   PIONEERS   LOSE   MONEY. 

year."  Others  lost  heart  in  the  long  continued  "hard  times" 
and  moved  back  East ;  still  others  were  dead — some,  I  fear,  of 
continued  disappointment — and  a  few  had  gone  "  farther  West." 
Of  all  with  whom  I  lived  and  worked,  I  could  hear  of  but  one 
or  two  who  had  lasted  through  the  "hard  times"  and  come 
out  with  bright  hopes.  And  every  year  of  my  Western  expe- 
rience convinces  me  that  the  real  "pioneers"  seldom  or  never 
make  the  big  profits  in  a  new  country.  It  is  the  second  "inva- 
sion," those  who  come  in  with  money  after  the  "  pioneers " 
have  lost  heart,  who  reap  the  richest  harvest.  The  "  old  set- 
tler "  comes  with  but  a  moderate  amount  of  cash — men  move 
West  because  they  want  money,  not  because  they  have  it — and 
when  he  has  paid  for  his  claim  and  got  up  a  cabin  he  is  at  the 
end  of  his  resources.  Then  if  there  come  short  crops  for  two 
or  three  years,  or  "  tight  times  "  from  other  causes,  it  takes  him 
years  to  "get  round  ;"  and  nine  times  out  of  ten  before  he  does 
w  get  round,"  he  is  willing  to  sell  out  for  much  less  than  his 
place  cost  him.  Everywhere  on  the  border  in  Kansas  and 
Nebraska,  even  in  tolerably  prosperous  times,  I  found  oppor- 
tunities to  buy  improved  places  at  less  cost  than  it  would  take 
to  improve  a  new  one. 

I  took  a  day  of  rest  in  the  delightful  region  about  Sauk 
Rapids  and  St.  Cloud,  the  latter  on  the  western  side  of  the 
Mississippi,  at  the  foot  of  the  rapids,  and  two  and  a  half  miles 
below  the  former  city.  Back  of  St.  Cloud  the  fertile  Sauk 
Valley  extends  for  fifty  miles,  and  the  country  is  also  good  for 
the  same  distance  up  the  Mississippi ;  but  on  the  eastern  side 
Sauk  Rapids  seems  to  be  the  northern  boundary  of  first-class 
land.  The  town  bids  fair  to  become  an  important  place  for 
manufacturing,  as  the  rapids  supply  the  finest  water-power, 
and  the  region  for  a  hundred  miles  north  and  east  is  excellent 
for  sheep.  A  company  with  abundant  capital  has  been  formed, 
and  is  just  beginning  an  extensive  system  of  works  to  utilize 
the  rapids.  The  situation  is  very  favorable ;  the  river  channel 
is  but  a  few  feet  below  the  general  level  of  the  country,  and  the 
firm  rock  bottom  presents  the  best  natural  facilities  for  wing- 
dams.  When  I  was  there,  in  1859,  St.  Cloud  was  considered 


"ORDER  OF  ST.  FRANCIS."  721 

the  head  of  final  navigation,  a  class  of  light-draught  steamers 
running  between  that  point  and  the  St.  Anthony  Falls;  but 
since  then  still  smaller  boats  have  been  put  on  above  the  rapids, 
running  to  Brainerd,  and  in  a  few  instances  further.  The 
Mississippi  yields  its  greatness  slowly,  and  even  at  a  point  a 
hundred  miles  above  St.  Paul,  it  is  still  a  big  river. 

At  2  P.  M.  of  the  21st,  we  left  Sauk  Rapids — it  ought  to  be 
called  Sauk  City,  to  distinguish  it  from  the  rapids — in  a  very 
uncomfortable,  "jerky"  stage,  and  struck  directly  northward. 
Our  road  lay  along  the  east  bank  of  the  river,  seldom  a  mile 
distant  from  the  stream,  and  ran  through  a  poor,  sandy  region, 
alternating  scrubby  timber  and  narrow  prairies,  covered  with 
coarse  grass.  The  cuts  in  the  road  and  washes  near  it,  showed 
the  soil  to  be  nowhere  more  than  five  or  six  inches  deep.  The 
grass  starts  early  in  the  spring,  and,  rain  being  abundant, 
renews  quickly  after  being  cropped,  but  two  or  three  years  of 
cultivation  wear  out  the  soil.  Singularly  enough  all  this  regio  i 
was  settled,  and  tolerably  thickly,  eighteen  years  before;  but 
nine-tenths  of  it  was  afterward  abandoned,  and  it  is  only  at  rare 
intervals,  in  some  low,  fertile  plat,  that  we  see  a  farm  house. 
There  was  a  general  disappointment  in  the  soil ;  it  proved  quite 
different  from  the  black  sandy  loam  of  Wright  County,  and 
"wore  out"  rapidly.  On  the  west  side  settlements  appear 
numerous.  Our  little  "jerky  "  carried  ten  passengers ;  a  lady 
and  gentleman  outside  with  the  driver;  inside  six  gentlemen 
and  a  Sister  and  Mother  of  the  "  Order  of  St.  Francis."  The 
last  two  were  on  their  way  to  Belle  Prairie  to  take  charge  of  a 
Frontier  Academy  just  established,  and  were  most  enthusiastic 
over  their  contemplated  field  of  labor  among  Chippewas  and 
half-breeds.  The  Mother  Superior  was  a  native  English- 
woman, and  the  most  intelligent  one  of  her  Order  I  ever  met ; 
the  Sister  was  an  American  lady  from  the  South,  lately  con- 
verted to  Catholicism  :  a  widow,  I  judge  from  her  account,  and  a 
Sister  indeed  ;  one  who,  yet  in  life's  prime,  had  adopted  a  life  of 
arduous  toil  on  this  lonesome  frontier  for  simple  devotion  to  an 
idea.  When  I  meet  these  Sisters  in  the  Far  West,  as  I  often 
did  formerly  in  the  army  hospitals,  I  am  compelled  to  a  pro- 
46 


722  OBJECT   OF   THE   ORDER. 

found  respect;  and  the  dogmas  of  Infallibility  or  Immaculate 
Conception  appear  but  small  things  in  view  of  a  life-time  of 
self-denial. 

The  day  had  been  barely  pleasant,  and  toward  evening  a  cold 
wind  came  sweeping  over  the  prairies,  compelling  us  to  muffle 
iu  our  blankets  and  close  the  coach,  as  if  for  winter  travel. 
But,  soon  after  dark,  we  entered  a  body  of  larger  timber ;  then 
the  air  became  calm,  and  at  9  o'clock  the  gibbous  moon  arose, 
throwing  a  flood  of  cheering  light  upon  the  dull  landscape.  All 
became  more  animated,  and  the  Mother  Superior,  yielding  to 
the  general  curiosity  expressed  as  to  her  hopes  of  success  among 
the  Indians,  gave  us  an  interesting  account  of  her  Order,  its 
appointed  work  and  her  own  life,  \^hile  I  listened  with  pleased 
surprise  to  hear  the  Indian  and  the  educational  question  dis- 
cussed from  such  an  unworldly  point  of  view.  The  Order  of 
St.  Francis  is  devoted  to  the  specific  work  of  teaching,  but  in 
times  of  public  calamity,  such  as  war  and  pestilence,  they  be- 
come nurses.  The  Mother  had  resided  many  years  in  France 
as  teacher,  but  spent  the  whole  time  of  the  Franco-Prussian 
war  and  a  year  after  in  the  hospitals.  There  her  health  was  in- 
jured, and  she  was  sent  to  the  wilds  of  the  Northwest  to  again 
become  a  teacher.  To  an  emphatic  statement  from  one  pas- 
senger that  "  an  Injun  couldn't  be  converted,"  she  replied : 
"  O,  perhaps  not  in  my  time,  but  surely  soon,  the  race  will  come 
to  know  and  embrace  the  truth.  We  work  for  God,  and  He 
will  take  care  of  it.  If  we  convert  one,  it  will  pay  us  ten 
thousand  fold." 

Towards  midnight  we  reached  their  destination,  Belle  Prairie, 
consisting  of  a  few  cabins,  a  small  school-house  and  little  chapel 
near,  its  white  cross  gleaming  in  the  cold  moonlight — in  that 
strange  solitude  a  fit  symbol  of  one  of  the  ten  thousand  outposts 
of  Rome.  Wondrous,  wide-extended  power  of  Mother  Church  ! 
Who  can  travel  beyond  the  reach  of  her  world-embracing  arms? 
Alike  on  the  banks  of  the  St.  Lawrence  and  the  Rio  Grande  I 
have  seen  the  white  cross  of  her  chapels;  and  on  the  wild  fron- 
tier and  in  the  hut  of  the  savage  have  met  her  hardy  mission- 
aries, bronzed  by  every  sun,  and  weather-beaten  by  the  storms 


CROW    WING. 


723 


MISSIONARY  AMONG  THE  MINNESOTA  INDIANS. 

of  every  sky  from  Pembina  to  Arizona.  Is  it  any  wonder, 
considering  her  celibate  clergy,  who  make  the  flock  their  family 
and  the  whole  world  their  home,  and  her  holy  orders  of  devoted 
women  to  whom  suffering  and  self-denial  are  sweet  for  the  sake 
of  the  Church,  is  it  any  wonder  that  a  quarter  of  a  billion  souls 
attest  her  power,  and,  to  the  reproach  of  us  Protestants,  nearly 
two-thirds  of  the  Christian  world — outside  of  Russia — still  own 
allegiance  to  Rome  ? 

A  few  miles  farther  brought  us  to  Crow  Wing,  where  we 
halted  till  8  A.  M.  next  day.  This  village  appears  in  the  last 
stages  of  dilapidation,  though  ten  years  ago  it  was  the  most  im- 
portant place  in  Upper  Minnesota.  It  was  the  half-way  place 
between  the  Indians  and  Whites,  the  great  depot  for  Indian 
goods,  and  enjoyed  an  extensive  Government  patronage.  All 
this  has  been  removed  far  up  the  country,  and  of  the  fine 
farms  which  once  surrounded  the  town,  half  or  more  have  been 
"  thrown  out  to  the  common." 

Thence  an  hour  of  rapid  driving  took  us  into  the  Black  Ptnc 
Forest,  in  the  center  of  which  we  found  the  "  City  of  Brainerd  '' 
— on  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad  at  last. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

ON  THE  NORTHERN  PACIFIC. 

Brainerd — The  Pine  forests  of  Minnesota — Sioux  and  Chippewas — Pahya  Goon- 
sey — Detroit  Lakes — Down  to  Red  River  — Moorehead — Out  to  Jimtown — Red 
River  Valley — "  The  equinoctial  storm" — Eastward  again — Russian  Quakers 
— Scandinavian  settlers — Scenery  on  the  St.  Louis — Duluth — Emigration  Com- 
panies— "POST  OFF" — Humbug  of  land  circulars — Climate  on  the  Northern 
Pacific — "  Be  not  deceived  " — The  testimony  experience  of  A.  Toponce,  Esq. 
— Comments. 

RAINERD  is  emphatically  a  railroad  town,  but  in  two 
important  particulars  far  superior  to  the  new  towns  on 
the  Union  Pacific:  it  is  built  of  the  finest  of  lumber,  and 
stands  in  a  forest  of  slender  pines.  Except  between  the 
railroad  track  and  Front  Street  the  native  pines  are  left 
standing  along  the  roadsides — the  middle  of  the  street  only  being 
cleared — and  thus  all  the  side  streets  look  like  magnificent 
avenues.  The  St.  Paul  and  Pacific  road  is  already  graded  to 
this  point,  and  as  the  junction  of  the  two  lines,  the  city  has  a 
prospect  of  future  greatness.  From  the  Rapids  to  Crow  Wing 
the  Mississippi  was  but  a  few  feet  below  our  road  ;  since  then  we 
have  been  coming  up  hill,  and  the  stream  at  Brainerd  runs  in  a 
considerable  gorge.  The  Northern  Pacific  bridge  west  of  the 
town  is  a  magnificent  structure,  of  three  span — sixty  feet  each — 
and  appears  to  me  the  best  bridge  I  have  seen  in  the  West. 
The  water  of  the  river  is  not  quite  eighty  yards  wide,  and  said 
to  be  from  five  to  ten  feet  deep.  So  it  is  no  longer  the  Great 
River,  and  a  hundred  miles  north  would  bring  us  into  the  midst 
of  that  circle  of  lakes,  Itasca,  Leech,  Cass  and  Plantagenet, 
which  form  its  source.  This  black  pine  is  not  the  valuable  pine 
of  Minnesota;  that  is  known  generally  as  the  Norway  pine,  and 
is  divided  into  the  white  and  yellow  varieties.  Beginning  a 
724 


THE  CHIPPEWAS.  725 

little  northeast  of  here,  at  least  ten  thousand  square  miles  abound 
more  or  less  with  it. 

After  a  good  dinner  at  "Headquarters,"  as  the  railroad  houses 
on  the  Northern  Pacific  are  called,  I  started  out  for  a  look  at 
the  town.  I  saw  that  no  one  was  at  work  on  the  railroad  build- 
ings; that  all  the  saloons  were  open  and  lively,  and  here  and 
there  a  man  had  on  a  clean  shirt,  which  suddenly  reminded  me 
that  it  was  Sunday.  In  front  of  the  principal  saloon  a  band  of 
twelve  or  fifteen  Chippewas  were  performing  the  "  war  dance" 
with  an  audience  of  whites.  The  only  instruments  were  a  tin 
drum  and  what  appeared  to  be  a  buckskin  tambourine;  at  the 
end  of  each  performance,  the  only  "brave"  who  could  speak 
English  went  around  with  a  hat,  addressing  each  white  with 
"  ten  cents  a  man-n-n,  ten  cents  a  man-n-n,"  while  the  next  in 
rank  delivered  a  fluent  speech  in  the  aboriginal  tongue.  Onlv  a 
few  rods  away  there  was  afternoon  service  at  the  Episcopal 
Church,  the  only  one  in  the  place. 

The  Chippewas  are  much  lighter  in  color  than  the  Sioux,  and 
bear  some  resemblance  to  the  Navajoes  in  their  physique ;  but 
are  far  inferior  to  them  in  every  element  of  civilization.  They 
are  simply  low,  degraded  savages,  who  enslave  their  women  and 
attempt  no  improvement — consequently  in  course  of  steady  and 
rapid  extinction.  They  had  been  at  war  with  the  Sjoux  from 
time  immemorial,  and  the  country  from  here  to  Crow  Wing  is 
historic  ground  to  them  as  the  scene  of  their  greatest  battle. 
North  of  town,  near  the  river  bank,  are  signs  of  rude  intrench- 
ments  and  rifle-pits,  of  which  the  old  voyageurs  give  this 
account : 

In  1827  all  the  available  warriors  of  the  Sioux  Nation  came 
on  a  grand  campaign  against  the  Chippewas;  and  having  met 
with  no  enemy  for  a  hundred  miles  above  here,  were  floating 
carelessly  down  the  river.  But  the  main  body  of  the  Chippewa* 
was  ambushed  at  various  points  between  here  and  Crow  Wing, 
while  the  advance  guard  occupied  these  rifle-pits  under  com- 
mand of  the  great  Pahya  Goonsey — the  Napoleon  of  the  North- 
west. As  the  Sioux  came  floating  carelessly  around  the  bend,  a 
hundred  rifles  suddenly  blazed  from  this  cover,  and  forty  Sioux 


726  GOOD   TIMBER. 

fell  dead  from  their  boats.  But  the  remainder  rallied,  and 
ceeded  in  effecting  a  landing.  Runners  were  dispatched  to 
bring  up  their  other  parties,  and  a  most  desperate  battle  raged 
for  four  days,  in  which  the  Chippewas  were  five  times  driven 
back  to  Crow  Wing,  and  as  often  regained  their  ground- 
Finally  their  last  detachment  arrived ;  they  attacked  the  weak- 
ened Sioux,  and  soon  drove  them  entirely  beyond  Red  River, 
which  has  ever  since  been  the  boundary  between  the  two  Nations. 
How  bravely  some  of  these  old  aborigines  fought,  and  how 
little  the  world  knows  about  it.  They  had  no  newspapers. 

"  Vain  was  the  chief's,  the  sage's  pride ; 
They  had  no  poet— and  they  died." 

We  were  off  from  Brainerd  the  next  day,  just  as  the  cold  air 
and  lowering  sky  gave  notice  that  the  first  touch  of  Indian  sum- 
mer was  over,  and  bad  weather  at  hand.  For  about  seventy- 
five  miles  westward  of  that  place,  the  country  on  the  Northern 
Pacific  is  rather  below  the  average;  the  soil  is  sandy  or  swampy, 
the  prairie  almost  barren,  and  the  timber  little  more  than  the 
worthless  black  pine  and  tamarac.  But  after  that  a  rapid  im- 
provement is  evident,  and  at  Detroit  Lake  we  seem  to  enter  fairly 
upon  the  great  and  fertile  valley  of  the  Red  River.  For  the  last 
fifty  miles,  before  reaching  that  stream,  we  moved  down  a  scarcely 
perceptible  slope,  through  a  region  of  mingled  prairie  and  tim- 
ber, with  every  indication  of  great  natural  fertility,  and  occasion- 
ally a  nice  improved  farm.  But  settlements  are  scarce,  and  the 
few  towns  are  nothing  more  than  stations,  with  half  a  dozen  or 
more  of  hastily  extemporized  cabins.  The  great  advantage  of 
the  Northern  Pacific  in  the  article  of  timber  is  everywhere 
apparent.  The  commonest  cabins  are  of  good  lumber,  instead 
of  the  sod  or  adobe  houses  seen  on  the  Union  Pacific,  and  are 
surrounded  by  neat  fences  of  plank  or  paling.  Throughout 
this  last  division  one  sees  no  swamp  land,  but  every  few  miles 
bring  to  view  a  clear,  pretty  lake,  from  a  hundred  yards  to  four 
or  five  miles  in  length. 

The  passengers  resident  inv  the  country  tell  me  that  in  winter 
these  lakes  are  frozen  almost  solid ;  and  then  is  the  best  time 


CLIMATE   OF   MINNESOTA.  727 

for  freighting,  as  the  sled  routes  take  a  straight  track  from  point 
to  point  without  regard  to  lakes,  streams  or  sloughs.  It  is  the 
general,  testimony  that  there  is  less  snow  in  northern  Minnesota 
than  in  the  region  one  or  two  hundred  miles  south,  though  the 
air  is  colder ;  but  the  little  there  is  blows  worse,  and  it  is  more 
dangerous  to  be  "  caught  out."  Frequently  a  broad  prairie 
will  be  so  bare  as  to  render  "  logging"  quite  difficult,  while  in 
the  narrow  strips  of  timber  the  snow  will  be  two  or.  three  feet 
deep. 

Moorehead,  on  the  eastern  bank  of  Red  River,  is  the  end  of 
the  passenger  division  on  the  road,  and  the  nominal  head  of 
navigation ;  but  it  is  only  in  the  months  of  June  and  July  that 
any  steamers  run  to  that  point.  Frog  Point,  sixty  miles  below 
(northward),  is  the  head  of  navigation  for  the  rest  of  the  sum- 
mer, though  boats  rarely  ply  before  the  latter  part  of  May.  As 
Red  River  has  a  general  course  due  north,  the  thaw  occurs  at 
the  head  first,  and  forces  a  great  break  up  and  massing  of  the 
ice  down  at  Fort  Garry  and  other  ports  in  AYiunepeg.  But 
the  railroad  is  fast  pushing  on  to  relieve  this  seven  months' 
blockade. 

The  "Pembina  Branch  of  the  St.  Paul  and  Pacific"  is 
located  on  a  line  bearing  northwest  from  St.  Cloud,  crossing  the 
Northern  Pacific  at  Glyndon,  seven  miles  east  of  Moorehead, 
and  following  thence  down  the  eastern  bank  of  Red  River. 
While  work  on  the  lower  end  is  suspended,  or  pushed  but 
slowly,  the  road  is  already  constructed  and  regular  trains  run- 
ning for  a  distance  of  eighty  miles  northward  from  Glyndon — 
a  rather  singular  instance  of  the  middle  section  of  a  road  being 
finished  before  either  end  makes  connection.  Freight  and  pas- 
senger steamers  of  two  hundred  tons  burden  ply  pretty  regularly 
on  Red  River  for  five  months  in  the  year,  and  the  travel  from 
Manitoba  and  adjacent  sections  already  takes  this  course. 
Limiting  the  fertile  land  to  fifty  miles  on  the  east  of  Red  River 
and  twice  as  far  on  the  west — and  I  am  certain  it  does  not  ex- 
ceed that — we  have  the  Red  River  Valley,  with  a  width  of  one 
hundred  and  fifty  miles,  and  length  of  over  three  hundred, 
comprising  probably  fifty  thousand  square  miles  of  fertile  land. 


728  PRODUCE. 

This  must  be  the  source  of  the  prosperity  of  the  Northern 
Pacific,  for  I  am  convinced  that  after  one  leaves  Red  River 
Valley,  and  begins  to  rise  to  the  plateaus  of  western  Dakota  and 
Montana,  barrenness  is  the  rule  and  fertility  the  exception,  even 
to  the  border  of  Oregon  and  Washington.  This  large  fertile 
area  will  produce  all  the  cereals  in  abundance,  as  well  as  turnips 
and  potatoes,  with  a  moderate  amount  of  Indian  corn.  Wheat 
can  be  grown  in  Winnepeg  to  a  point  nearly  two  hundred  miles 
north  of  our  National  boundary.  Cranberries  and  wild  plums 
are  the  only  fruits  I  hear  mentioned  as  "  successful." 

Moorehead  is  a  rather  rough  looking  frontier  town,  consisting 
of  rude  frames  and  "  shake-ups"  of  pine  lumber,  and  containing 
perhaps  five  hundred  people.  Fargo,  on  the  Dakota  side  of 
Red  River,  looks  even  more  distressing,  and,  as  I  toiled  through 
its  streets  on  a  windy  morning,  carrying  my  luggage  from  the 
end  of  the  passenger  division  to  the  beginning  of  the  construc- 
tion division,  I  felt  an  active  sympathy  for  those  who  "  have 
lots  to  sell."  The  river  appears  about  the  same  size  as  the 
Mississippi  at  Brainerd,  and  flows  due  north  with  a  gentle 
current. 

The  country  is  being  settled,  where  settled  at  all,  by  colonies 
generally,  and  most  of  them  from  northern  Europe.  At  several 
of  the  principal  towns  the  company  has  erected  vast  frame 
hotels,  or,  rather,  reception  and  lodging  houses,  especially  for 
the  use  of  emigrants,  and  unusual  facilities  are  afforded  to  for- 
eigners coming  to  seek  homes.  It  is  my  conviction  that  native 
Americans  will  form  but  a  small  part  of  the  future  population 
of  this  great  valley,  and  that  the  bulk  of  its  people  will  be 
Scandinavians,  with  perhaps  some  Scotch  and  Russians.  The 
latter  people  now  have  some  agents  out  here  looking  for  a  loca- 
tion for  a  peculiar  religious  sect,  who  might  be  called  Russian 
Quakers.  They  number  several  thousand,  and  refuse  to  bear 
arms  ;  the  Czar  has  ordered  them  to  fight,  pay,  or  emigrate,  and 
they  have  concluded  to  come  to  this  region  in  a  body. 

Straw-ticks,  beef  and  potatoes  could  be  had  in  either  of  the 
barn-like  structures,  serving  as  hotels,  in  Moorehead,  for  two 
dollars  per  day;  but  there  was  nothing  to  be  seen  requiring 


EMIGRATION.  729 

more  than  one  night's  stay.  Omnibuses  go  no  farther ;  so  we 
carried  our  own  baggage  nearly  a  mile  across  the  bridge,  and 
through  Fargo  to  the  construction  train,  on  which  we  traversed 
the  last  hundred  miles.  The  ll  Equinoctial  storm"  had  just  got 
down  to  actual  business,  dealing  cold  rain,  wind  and  sleet,  when 
we  started  westward  at  10  A.  M.  For  fifty  miles  the  country 
appears  as  level  as  the  calm  ocean ;  the  eye  can  not  discern  the 
slightest  incline  in  the  general  surface,  except  at  the  Shyene  and 
another  stream  ;  and  through  all  this  distance  the  rank  grass 
above,  and  the  black  soil  below,  marking  two  feet  deep  in  the 
few  cuts,  indicated  great  fertility.  We  jogged  along  at  eight  or 
ten  miles  an  hour,  with  thirty  platform  cars  loaded  with  ties  and 
iron,  which-  gave  me  fair  time  to  look  at  the  country  from  the 
caboose.  About  noon  the  cold  rain  ceased,  and  I  tried  it  to  the 
next  "  siding"  on  top  of  the  flat  cars,  in  order  to  get  a  better 
view.  The  time  was  two  hours,  and  I  was  heartily  glad  to  get 
inside  again ;  the  heavy  wind  from  the  northwest  chilled  me  to 
the  bones,  and  toward  the  last  the  air  showed  signs  of  flying 
frost. 

We  cross  the  Shyene  River  twice,  and  about  midway  between 
the  two  crossings  is  a  sort  of  ridge  or  "  divide,"  which  breaks 
the  ordinary  monotony.  Shyene  is  merely  the  English  spelling 
of  the  French  Cheyenne,  meaning  "scarred  arm,"  the  aboriginal 
name  of  the  tribe  which  formerly  ranged  from  this  river  south- 
westward  to  the  Cheyenne  Pass  in  the  Black  Hills.  Between 
the  Shyene  and  Dakota  or  James  River,  generally  known  in 
Dakota  as  Jim  River,  is  a  very  considerable  rise,  and  the  coun- 
try is  neither  so  fertile  nor  monotonous  as  in  the  eastern  half  of 
this  division.  West  of  the  "  divide"  we  cross  Salt  Lake,  so- 
called,  though  little  like  the  great  one  of  Utah.  It  appears  to 
be  some  five  miles  long,  and  from  one  to  two  wide ;  and  differs 
only  from  the  ordinary  alkaline  lakes  of  Wyoming  in  having  a 
little  more  salt  and  a  little  less  alkali.  Authorities  appear  to 
differ  about  its  having  an  outlet ;  the  reason  is,  the  Surveyor 
General  tells  me,  that  a  low  piece  of  ground  connects  it  with 
the  nearest  stream,  into  which  it  sometimes  overflows  in  very 
wet  seasons,  thus  having  sometimes  an  outlet. 


730  COLD   WEATHER, 

Night  had  come  before  we  entered  upon  the  slope  leading 
down  to  James  River,  and  about  11  o'clock  the  train  drew  up1 
on  the  eastern  side  of  that  stream,  and  we  were  left  to  hunt  our 
way  through  the  darkness,  across  the  hollow  and  into  Jimtown- 
The  cold  was  intense,  and  the  wind  had  increased  to  a  perfect 
hurricane.  If  there  is  any  wind-breaker  northwest,  between 
there  and  Alaska,  I  had  no  evidence  of  it.  Burdened  with  only 
a  valise,  I  had  to  stop  half  a  dozen  times  in  half  a  mile  to  get 
breath ;  and  my  overcoat  and  blanket  presented  so  much  sail 
in  proportion  to  my  light  hull,  that  I  was  in  imminent  danger 
of  blowing  away.  Magnificent  Eailroad  circulars  talk  of 
cattle  "living  out  all  winter'7  in  this  country,  but  where  I  can 
not  "live  out7'  in  September,  I  should  like  to  see  the  bovine- 
tin^  could  do  it  in  January.  However,  there  is  one  comfort  i 
all  the  citizens  assure  me  "it's  something  very  uncommon — in 
fact,  it's  the  Equinoctial  storm ;  if  you  stay  it  through  you'll 
see  a  month  o'  good  weather  after  this."  Every  tent  in  the- 
canvas  town  was  full,  but  after  an  hour's  hunt  I  got  half  a  bunk 
from  a  young  Irishman.  The  astute  islander  took  care  to  have 
me  lie  next  the  edge  of  the  tent,  where  the  wind  whistled  over 
my  back  in  mournful  tremolo,  and  after  five  hours  cold  napping 
I  rose  and  sat  by  the  fire  till  breakfast.  About  noon  the  wind 
began  te  fall,  the  cold  decreased  and  a  regular  snow  storm  be- 
gan. Far  as  I  could  see  the  prairie  was  white,  and  the  air  full 
of  damp  snow. 

Summing  up  my  experience  of  the  last  three  days  I  was  much 
inclined  to  set  down  a  great  deal  I  had  heard  and  read  of  the 
"  mild,  dry  and  salubrious  Northwest,"  the  "  health-giving  air 
of  Minnesota,"  and  the  "  northward  deflection  of  the  isothermal 
line/'  as  merely  the  exuberance  of  a  playful  fancy  ;  for,  as  my 
blue  fingers  stiffened  around  the  pen,  in  a  tent  which  clattered 
in  the  wind  as  if  it  were  bound  to  fly  away,  the  thermometer 
stood  at  28°,  and  outside  the  air  was  full  of  flying  snow,  which 
indicated  anything  but  the  "  mild  and  salubrious."  They  tell 
me  there  that  this  is  something  very  unusual — "  in  fact,  it's  the 
Equinoctial  storm  ;"  but  how  anything  can  be  "  very  unusual 
at  this  season"  and  at  the  same  time  the  "  Equinoctial  storm," 


"EQUINOCTIAL,  STORM."  731 

I  rose  and  sat  by  the  fire  till  breakfast.  About  noon  the  wind 
began  to  fall,  the  cold  decreased  and  a  regular  snow  storm  be- 
gan. Far  as  I  could  see  the  prairie  was  white,  and  the  air  full 
of  damp  snow. 

Summing  up  my  experience  of  the  last  three  days  I  was  much 
inclined  to  set  down  a  great  deal  I  had  heard  and  read  of  the 
"  mild,  dry  and  salubrious  Northwest,"  the  "  health-giving  air 
of  Minnesota/7  and  the  "northward  deflection  of  the  isothermal 
line/'  as  merely  the  exuberance  of  a  playful  fancy  ;  for,  as  my 
blue  fingers  stiffened  around  the  pen,  in  a  tent  which  clattered 
in  the  wind  as  if  it  were  bound  to  fly  away,  the  thermometer 
stood  at  28°,  and  outside  the  air  was  full  of  flying  snow,  which 
indicated  anything  but  the  "  mild  and  salubrious."  They  tell 
me  there  that  this  is  something  very  unusual — "  in  fact,  it's  the 
Equinoctial  storm  ;"  but  how  anything  can  be  "  very  unusual 
at  this  season"  and  at  the  same  time  the  "  Equinoctial  storm," 
I  don't  quite  understand.  And,  by  the  way,  I  hardly  ever 
come  far  north  after  the  middle  of  August  but  what  I  strike  the 
"Equinoctial  storm."  In  Indiana  that  storm  used  to  come 
pretty  regularly  somewhere  between  the  middle  of  September 
and  the  first  of  October ;  but  on  the  Northern  Pacific  it  appears 
to  have  a  longer  range. 

A  snow-storm  on  the  25th  of  September  is  not  particularly 
suggestive  of  a  mild  climate;  but  from  previous  observation  I 
know  this  to  have  been  an  exception,  and  that  pleasant  weather 
usually  continues  till  about  the  first  of  November.  But  brief 
as  the  storm  was,  it  spoiled  our  excursion  beyond  the  terminus. 
The  actual  "end  of  the  track"  on  the  25th  was  nine  miles  be- 
yond Jimtown — the  little  canvas  "city"  on  the  James  River. 
As  we  journeyed  eastward  after  the  return  of  good  weather,  I 
observed  that  considerable  snow  had  fallen,  leaving  the  black 
soil  of  Red  River  Valley  in  a  muddy  condition.  The  general 
testimony  makes  James  River  the  western  border  of  good  land 
in  Dakota,  the  country  thence  to  the  Missouri,  about  a  hundred 
miles,  being  a  poor  tract,  with  cold,  barren  soil  and  alkali  flats. 

At  Moorehead  we  learned  that  the  storm  had  been  universal 
throughout  the  Northwest,  extending  down  even  to  one  point 


732  SCENERY. 

on  the  Union  Pacific  ;  and  the  passengers  by  stage  from  Winne- 
peg  complained  of  suffering  some  from  the  cold.  The  usual 
three  days' duration  for  these  storms  was  over;  by  the  next 
morning  the  weather  was  almost  moderate,  with  indications  of 
a  mild  autumn.  The  return  trip  developed  no  new  feature;  we 
rose  by  an  imperceptible  grade  from  Red  River  to  Detroit  Lake, 
through  a  very  fertile  region  ;  then  traversed  the  half  barren 
strip  of  black  pine,  tamarack  and  scrub-oak  to  Brainerd,  where 
we  took  another  short  rest.  I  like  that  place  better  than  any  I 
saw  on  the  road  west  of  Dulutli.  The  head  of  navigation  on 
the  Mississippi,  the  junction  of  the  main  line  of  the  St.  Paul 
and  Pacific,  and  a  lumber  depot  for  the  pine  forests  north,  it 
has  the  promise  of  a  good  permanent  trade.  But  I  saw  no  land 
in  the  vicinity  which  appeared  to  me  valuable  for  agriculture. 
The  city  census  had  just  been  completed,  after  the  liberal  man- 
ner of  Western  towns,  I  suppose,  and  made  the  population 
nearly  two  thousand.  It  had  two  daily  papers,  of  different 
politics  —  at  least  nominally  —  though  published  at  the  same 
office. 

East  of  Brainerd  the  country  was  a  decided  disappointment 
to  me,  consisting  for  some  eighty  miles  of  nearly  equal  parts  of 
tamarack  swamp,  sand  plain  and  marshy  prairie.  Reaching 
the  St.  Louis  River,  some  twenty-five  miles  west  of  Duluth,  the 
country  becomes  more  picturesque,  with  indications  of  good 
timber.  The  scenery  on  that  stream  is  fine,  and  is  said  to  gain 
in  grandeur  as  one  goes  up  it  to  the  northwest. 

Duluth  has  a  fine  site  on  the  northern  shore  of  the  extreme 
western  point  of  Lake  Superior.  The  flat  along  the  lake  is 
wide  enough  for  four  or  five  squares;  then  the  land  rises,  at 
first  gently,  then  more  abruptly,  to  a  wooded  hill.  I  should 
guess  the  population  at  four  thousand  ;  probably  the  city  census 
reports  it  twice  as  much.  The  prosperity  of  the  place  will 
come  from  two  sources  :  the  lumber  trade  from  Northern  Min- 
nesota, and  the  shipping  of  produce  from  the  Red  River  Valley. 
Duluth  will  advance  with  a  steady  and  regular  growth  in  just 
the  proportion  that  that  valley  is  settled  and  developed.  The 
sanguine  dream  that  this  is  to  be  a  second  Chicago,  and  the 


FUTURE   OF   DULUTH. 


733 


entrepot  of  a  vast  trade  from  the  Orient,  via  a  trans-continental 
line,  is  not  destined  to  be  fulfilled — not,  at  least,  in  this  century. 
In  the  first  place  there  is  not  enough  of  that  celebrated  trans- 
continental trade  to  make  a  great  city ;  and  secondly  j  only  a 
portion  of  what  there  is  will  come  this  way.  But  from  the  de- 
velopment of  the  great  grain-producing  region  on  Red  River 
this  place  will,  in  fifty  years,  become  important.  That  valley, 
in  our  country  and  Winnepeg,  when  settled  as  thickly  as  Illi- 
nois— and  it  will  comfortably  support  as  many — will  have  a 
population  of  two 
or  three  millions. 
To  these  Duluth 
will  be  the  shipping 
point.  Whether  it 
will  require  fifty  or 
a  hundred  years  to 
settle  and  develop 
that  region  I  shall 
not  decide.  The 
calculations  of 
Western  speculat- 
ors are  correct  in 
the  main  as  to  fu- 
ture facts  :  their 
great  error  is  in  re- 
gard to  time.  Mul- 
tiply the  years  of 
their  prophecies  by 
four,  and  the  result  will  approximate  to  the  truth.  Omaha 
was  to  have  become  a  second  Babylon  on  the  completion  of  the 
Union  Pacific,  and  she  will  be  something  of  a  city  yet;  but  not 
in  time  to  make  the  present  generation  of  real  estate  owners 
suddenly  rich.  Duluth  has  the  same  air  of  pretentious  newness 
which  marked  Omaha  in  1866-67,  but  in  most  respects  is  more 
solid  than  Omaha  then  was. 

"  The  Zenith  City  of  the  Unsalted  Seas  "—local  title— more 
generally  known  as  Duluth,  did  not  appear  to  the  best  advan- 


DALLES  OF  THE  ST.  LOUIS. 


734  "  POST-OFFICE." 

tage  just  after  a  September  snow-storm  ;  but  it  was  lively  with 
immigrants,  colony  agents,  real  estate  speculators,  travelers  and 
freighters.  All  are  anxious  to  assure  me  that  this  weather  is 
"not  a  specimen — we  really  have  a  mild  climate,"  of  which 
more  anon.  For  many  reasons,  in  this  northern  region  it  is 
much  better  to  settle  with  a  colony ;  and  one  meets  here  many 
representatives  of  the  North  European  people  looking  for  loca- 
tions. I  learned  of  but  one  purely  American  enterprise,  the 
"  Red  River  Colony  ; "  but  they  appear  to  me  to  have  the  best 
location  of  any.  In  Clay  County,  Minnesota,  and  the  adjoining 
part  of  Dakota,  about  the  head  of  Red  River,  are  sixteen  town- 
ships, containing  400,000  acres  of  the  finest  land  in  the  North- 
west, and  nearly  all  railroad  land.  The  St.  Paul  and  Pacific — 
Breckinridge  line — and  the  Pembina  Branch,  both  traverse  the 
region ;  and  both  having  liberal  grants,  bring  the  entire  district 
into  market  together,  and  no  part  of  it  a  day's  drive  from  a 
railroad.  One  of  the  lines  is  now  in  operation,  and  the  other 
will  be  within  a  year.  The  price  fixed  at  present  is  $4.50  per 
acre,  with  many  advantages  stipulated  in  the  way  of  transporta- 
tion ;  and  the  native  of  New  England  would  not  find  the  change 
of  climate  particularly  troublesome.  L.  H.  Tenney  &  Co.,  of 
Duluth,  are  the  corresponding  officers  of  the  colony,  which  is 
just  fairly  inaugurated.  I  think  the  Scandinavians  make  half 
or  more  of  the  population  of  the  adjacent  parts  of  Minnesota 
and  Dakota — a  most  desirable  class  of  citizens.  An  old  trav- 
eler relates  that  he  was  toiling  over  the  black  sandy  prairie,  one 
of  the  hottest  days  of  their  hot  but  short  summer,  when  to  his 
joy  he  came  upon  a  dirt-roofed  log-house  with  the  word  ICE 
in  prominent  letters  on  the  right  side  of  the  door.  Drawing 
near  with  thirsty  haste  he  saw  on  the  left  side  in  smaller,  dim- 
mer letters  the  word  POST  OFF.  A  Russian  or  Swedish  name, 
he  thought  it,  and  called  for  ice-water.  The  woman,  ignorant 
of  English,  handed  him  a  bundle  of  letters  with  instructions  in 
pantomime  to  pick  out  what  belonged  to  him  !  The  only 
American  about  the  place  being  absent,  he  made  out  after  a 
lengthy  discussion  with  the  woman  that  the  two  signs  were  to 
be  read  together,  and  meant  POST-OFFICE. 


735 


DULUTH. 

We  hear  much  of  the  "  northward  deflection  of  the  isothermal 
line,"  and  something  like  a  thousand  pamphlets,  or  letters  of 
florid  correspondents,  assure  us  that  the  Northern  Pacific  runs 
through  a  milder  climate  than  the  Central  Route;  that  "cattle 
can  live  out  all  winter"  in  the  valleys  of  the  Upper  Missouri; 
that  the  land  granted  is  "  worth  double  the  cost  of  the  road," 
etc.,  etc.  To  all  of  which  I  respond — Bosh  !  emphatically, 
Bosh !  It  is  quite  as  cold  as  in  the  same  latitude  East,  with  the 
added  disadvantage  of  open  plains  and  furious  winds.  If  the 
"isothermal  line"  is  in  any  way  accommodating  up  there,  I 
failed  to  find  it  out  in  a  thousand  miles  of  travel  and  a  lengthy 
residence  in  Minnesota.  At  Yankton  the  winters  are  pleasant; 
snow  never  lies  on  the  ground  more  than  four  months,  and  by 
dressing  to  suit  it,  people  get  through  comfortably.  Fifty 
people  were  frozen  to  death  in  three  counties  in  Minnesota  last 
winter;  and  the  ice  blocks  taken  out  of  the  Mississippi  as  far 
down  as  St.  Anthony  average  three  feet  thick.  Such  being  the 
case  in  the  settlements,  what  reason  is  there,  in  physical  geo- 
graphy or  common  sense,  for  supposing  that  they  have  milder 
winters  three  or  four  hundred  miles  farther  northwest,  in  the 
direction  whence  the  cold  winds  come  ? 


736  LETTER. 

Storms  of  fifty  hours'  duration  are  not  uncommon  even  in 
western  Nebraska,  and  at  Cheyenne  I  have  experienced  weather 
cold  enough  to  freeze  the  ears  off  the  Cardiff  Giant.  Five  hun- 
dred miles  south  of  the  Northern  Pacific  I  have  seen  cattle 
frozen  stiff  in  their  tracks,  horses  left  in  the  spring  with  only 
the  stump  of  a  tail,  birds  fallen  dead  from  the  air  in  cold  wind 
storms,  Indians  without  nose  enough  left  to  blow  after  a  winter's 
journey,  and  buffalo  by  tens  of  thousands  literally  frozen  to 
death  on  the  plains.  In  the  light  of  such  well-established  facts 
the  assertions  in  the  pamphlets  and  land  circulars  quoted,  are 
something  more  than  mere  audacious  impudence — they  are  an 
insult  to  the  popular  intelligence. 

Of  course  there  is  fertile  land  on  the  line,  and  a  climate  which 
suits  natives  of  the  extreme  north ;  and  in  the  course  of  half  a 
century  it  will  have,  and  comfortably  support,  a  considerable 
population.  Life  is  not  intolerable  in  the  climate  of  Canada 
and  Nova  Scotia ;  and  men  raise  stock,  acquire  wealth  and  found 
noble  communities  under  the  skies  of  Sweden  and  Norway. 
But  to  promise  the  expectant  immigrant  an  Arcadia,  where 
common  sense  and  common  experience  forbid  the  idea,  is  a  fraud. 

Of  a  hundred  witnesses  known  to  me  to  be  reliable,  I  will 
cite  but  one.  The  loss  of  an  immense  train  on  the  upper  Mis- 
souri by  Alex.  Toponce,  Esq.,  and  his  partners,  being  a  matter 
of  some  notoriety,  in  my  collection  of  evidence  on  the  climate  I 
addressed  him  a  note  of  inquiry.  I  select  his  reply  from  a  mass 
of  letters  and  documents  to  the  same  effect : 

"  CORINNE,  U.  T.,  March  8,  1873. 
"  MR.  J.  H.  BEADLE  :— 

"  Dear  Sir,  ....  I  give  you  with  pleasure  the  items  of  inte- 
rest of  the  long-to-be-remembered  snow-storm  that  overtook 
me  in  Montana,  in  1865.  I  left  Fort  Benton  in  company 
with  Jerry  Mann,  on  my  way  to  Fort  Union,  on  the  14th  of 
November  of  that  year,  with  an  outfit  of  sixty-one  wagons, 
and  787  head  of  work  cattle;  twenty-five  head  of  horses  and 
mules,  with  seventy-one  men  ;  we  arrived  at  Fort  Union 
December  16th,  loaded  and  started  for  Fort  Benton  December 


HARD  ON   THE   ANIMALS.  737 

28th,  with  weather  favorable  for  a  successful  trip.  About  forty 
miles  out  on  the  return  trip,  on  a  stream  known  as  Quaking 
Asp  River,  putting  in  on  the  north  side  of  the  Missouri  in  latitude 
48 J  degrees ;  on  the  eighth  day  of  January  we  were  overtaken 
by  a  terrific  snow-storm.  The  first  day  of  the  storm  we  lost 
about  150  head  of  cattle  by  freezing.  Not  being  able  to  move 
we  corralled  our  wagons,  and  built  a  stockade  around  them  as 
a  protection  from  the  Indians. 

"  In  ten  days  we  had  lost  all  the  animals  we  had  except  two 
mules  and  two  steers,  which  we  protected  by  covering  with  buf- 
falo robes  and  wagon  sheets,  and  built  fires  around  them,  feed- 
ing them  on  bark,  dried  buffalo  meat  and  corn-meal.  On  or 
about  the  eighth  day  of  February,  in  company  with  Mr.  Mann, 
I  started  with  the  two  surviving  mules  for  Helena,  for  a  fresh 
supply  of  cattle  to  move  our  wagons  (here  I  will  say  that  none 
of  the  cattle  lost  died  from  starvation).  Mercury  congealed, 
and  never  moved  for  fifteen  days ;  the  air  was  colder  than  a 
man  could  breathe,  walking  against  it. 

"  The  horns  of  the  cattle  cracked  and  the  pith  burst  out. 
Their  tails  would  freeze  stiff  in  horizontal  positions,  and  dur- 
ing all  this  time  the  buffalo  gathered  into  the  timber  and  thou- 
sands of  them  froze  to  death.  They  were  perfectly  tame;  would 
make  but  one  jump  on  the  approach  of  man.  On  the  seventh 
or  eighth  day  after  leaving  camp,  as  above  mentioned,  we  ar- 
rived at  Fort  Copeland,  at  the  mouth  of  Milk  River,  about 
sixty-five  miles  travel  through  snow  from  two  and  a  half  to 
three  feet  in  depth.  There  we  laid  over  one  day  with  some 
traders,  when  we  resumed  our  journey  for  Fort  Benton,  with 
no  settlements  between  the  two  points — a  distance  of  about  250 
miles.  At  the  three  forks  of  Milk  River  we  found  three  In- 
dian ponies,  herded  them  on  the  ice  and  caught  them.  They 
came  in  excellent  play,  as  our  mules  were  played  out.  At  this 
point  the  snow  was  about  gone. 

"  We  arrived  at  Fort  Benton  with  nothing  farther  of  inte- 
rest ;  there  we  got  fresh  animals  from  Messrs.  Carrol  &  Steele. 
All  this  time  we  subsisted  on  buffalo  meat  without  salt — our 
mules  living  on  the  same  and  on  bark.  We  started  back  from 
47 


738  HORSES   AND   MULES   DISAPPEAR. 

Helena  on  the  20th  of  March,  with  six  hundred  head  of  cattle 
and  forty-eight  horses  and  mules.  No  farther  difficulty  until 
we  reached  Sun  River,  where  we  were  again  overtaken  by  a 
terrible  snow-storm.  We  camped  on  the  island  opposite  the 
Government  corral,  and  the  second  day  of  the  storm  I  rode 
around  our  camp,  a  circle  of  about  six  miles,  looking  for  Indian 
signs.  Seeing  none,  that  night  we  turned  our  stock  loose. 
What  was  our  astonishment  in  the  morning  to  find  all  our  horses 
and  mules  gone,  except  one  that  Mr.  Mann  had  at  the  Govern- 
ment farm,  and  one  that  would  not  be  driven  away  from  camp. 
Five  Indians  had  been  camped  only  two  hundred  yards  from 
us  during  the  storm,  in  the  willows. 

"  Then  we  were  obliged  to  drive  the  cattle  afoot  to  Fort 
Benton.  There  two  of  our  men  had  a  little  row,  and  both  were 
killed.  Procuring  more  horses  we  drove  to  the  Marias,  twelve 
miles  below  Fort  Benton,  built  a  raft  to  run  over  our  supply 
wagons;  upset  all  our  provisions  in  the  river,  and  were  again 
left  to  subsist  on  the  country,  as  no  supplies  could  be  obtained 
at  Fort  Benton. 

"No  farther  trouble,  except  dodging  around  the  country  to 
avoid  hostile  Indians,  driving  cattle  on  foot,  wading  sloughs  in 
extreme  cold  weather,  and  living  on  buffalo  meat — the  amount 
it  takes  to  satisfy  a  man  you  would  hardly  credit,  eight  men 
often  eating  in  one  week  the  meat  of  a  cow — until  we  reached 
the  lower  crossing  of  Milk  River.  There  in  gathering  up  our 
cattle  we  missed  one;  one  of  the  men  went  back  some  four  hun- 
dred yards  after  him,  and  in  sight  of  camp  was  shot,  scalped 
and  a  checkerboard  cut  on  his  back  before  we  could  get  to 
him,  by  Indians  in  ambush,  of  whom  some  forgot  the  number 
of  their  mess. 

"  On  the  10th  of  April  the  ice  very  suddenly  commenced 
breaking  up  in  the  Missouri  River  ;  gorged  against  a  bluff  bank 
in  a  short  bend  of  the  stream,  and  dammed  the  water  so  that 
it  set  back  fifteen  miles  and  found  a  place  for  a  new  channel. 
It  broke  in  above  us,  and  ran  through  our  camp  on  the  Quaking 
Asp,  taking  wagons,  cabins,  trees  and  everything  else  before  it, 
drowning  elk,  deer,  and  all  the  animals  on  the  bottom.  It  came 


THE   FRESHET.  739 

so  sudden,  that  men  sitting  in  the  cabins  had  not  time  to  put 
on  their  boots,  climbing  out  through  the  chimneys  to  save  their 
lives,  the  water  running  about  fifteen  feet  deep.  One  of  the 
cabins  floated  down  the  river  about  ejght  miles  with  three  men 
on  it,  who  cut  up  a  buffalo  robe  and  tied  the  corners  together. 
Two  of  them  survived.  Others  climbed  trees,  hanging  on  for 
sixty  hours.  One  party  built  a  fire  and  cooked  their  meals  on 
the  roof  of  a  cabin.  Three  men  in  all  perished.  Some  were 
crippled  by  having  their  limbs  broken ;  others  by  hanging  on 
to  the  trees  and  chilling  nearly  to  death. 

"  By  this  freshet  I  lost  my  whole  train  of  twenty-six  wagons. 
Mr.  Mann's  train  was  camped  on  the  bluff  bank,  and  the  water 
merely  rising  up  into  some  wagon  beds  damaged  considerable 
freight;  but  the  others  escaped.  We  lost  all  the  hundred  head 
of  cattle  brought  down  from  Helena.  I  was  loaded  with  200,- 
000  pounds  of  valuable  freight,  of  which  all  was  lost  except  a 
few  things  that  lodged  among  the  drift-wood  and  were  not 
perishable  by  water. 

"The  merchandize  at  that  time  was  worth  $125,000 ;  the  stock 
and  wagons  about  $50,000  more,  making  in  the  aggregate 
$175,000.  We  gathered  up  what  little  was  left  and  reached 

Helena  on  the  28th  of  June I  could  write  much  more 

of  my  experience  in  these  hard  winters,  particularly  of  the  stock 
lost  on  Snake  River  and  in  other  portions  of  Idaho,  in  the  winter 
of  1864,  when  I  lost  a  hundred  and  sixty  head. 

"  Friend  Beadle,  I  have  given  you  a  plain,  unvarnished  tale 
of  facts  known  to  a  dozen  others ;  but  I  must  say  that,  with  all 
my  experience  of  a  mountain  life,  the  Mormons  have  given  me 
a  worse  jolting  up  this  winter  than  T  ever  had  before — as  you 
have  seen  by  the  Gentile  papers.* 

"  The  route  traveled  over  between   Fort   Union  and  Fort 


*  Under  the  jurisdiction  claimed  by  the  Probate  Courts  of  Utah,  the  cause  of 
the  present  difficulties  there,  Mr.  Toponce  was  arrested  at  the  suit  of  some  Mor- 
mon cattle-dealers  ;  but  in  spite  of  a  fearful  array  of  "  inspired  witnesses,"  they 
failed  to  make  out  a  case.  It  was  pretty  clearly  proved  to  be  a  malicious  prose- 
cution, for  which,  however,  there  is  no  remedy  under  Mormon  law. 


740  "TEMPERING  GALES." 

Ben  ton  is  inhabited  by  the  Sioux,  Assineboines,  Crows,  Gros 
Ventres,  Piegans,  Bloods  and  Blackfeet  Indians,  all  hostile. 
"  Truly  Yours,  ALEX.  TOPONCE." 

One  of  the  brilliant  pamphlets  above  quoted  explains  that  the 
low  passes  there  in  the  Rocky  Mountains  "  admit  the  tempering 
gales  from  the  Pacific/'  thus  accounting  for  a  "  mild  and  equable 
climate  "  in  that  latitude.  Mr.  Toponce's  route  was  along  those 
"  low  passes,"  and  accordingly  he  should  have  experienced  those 
"tempering  gales ;"  but  they  appear  to  have  missed  him  some- 
how. How  could  these  "  tempering  gales "  get  over  three 
ranges  of  mountain,  from  six  to  twelve  thousand  feet  high  ? 
The  region  above  spoken  of  has  a  good  climate  for  five  months 
in  the  year — sufficient  to  produce  all  the  necessaries  of  life;  and 
eastern  Dakota  has  a  fertile  soil.  But  as  to  the  "  mild  winters," 
even  the  buifaloes  know  better  than  to  believe  it ;  for  they  go 
south  in  winter — or  start  south,  though  many  are  frozen  to  death 
before  they  get  far. 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 

THE   WAY  TO   OREGON. 

Westward  again — Iowa — Union  Pacific — Utah — Central  Pacific — Sacramento — 
California  and  Oregon  Railroad— Chico— General  Bidwell's  Ranche— Semi- 
Tropical  Fruits  and  Flowers— Reading— Shasta— Joaquin  Miller— Shasta  In- 
dians— "  Venus  and  Adonis  " — Staging  on  the  Sierras — Mount  Shasta — 
Yreka — Frontier  justice — Immense  Forests — Oregon — Rogue  River — Umpqua 
—Willamette— Portland. 

ROWN  October,  1872,  found  me  again  rolling  through 
Iowa,  vid  the  Burlington  and  Missouri  River  Railroad, 
to  visit  the  western  end  of  the  Northern  Pacific.  Five 
seasons  had  made  great  changes  since  I  first  crossed  the 
State.  Now  there  are  four  lines  of  rail  from  Mis- 
sissippi to  Missouri,  and  others  in  course  of  construction. 

My  fourteenth  trip  over  the  Union  Pacific,  at  the  prettiest 
season  of  the  year,  was  an  unusually  pleasant  one ;  and  reaching 
"  Zion  "  I  found  the  truce  of  the  past  season  broken,  and  Mor- 
mon and  Gentile  in  their  regular  and  normal  condition  of  at- 
tack and  defence.  Eastern  people  earnestly  and  honestly 
inquire :  Why  can  not  the  two  parties  there  simply  let  each  other 
alone?  Similarly  it  was  said  :  Let  Slavery  alone,  and  it  will 
not  cause  national  trouble.  But  there  are  certain  institutions 
which  can  not  be  left  alone,  because  from  their  very  nature  they 
can  not  let  anything  else  alone.  If  Mormonism  were  only  a 
Church,  it  could  easily  be  let  alone ;  but  it  is  a  political  entity, 
claiming  divine  right  to  rule  a  certain  portion  of  territory,  and 
to  regulate  the  trade,  pursuits,  marriages,  and  social  relations 
of  all  its  subjects.  Shall  we  submit  to  any  political  power  be- 
cause it  is  also  a  Church  ? 

A.  is  a  merchant ;  the  Church  takes  her  stand  at  his  door,  and 
orders  away  his  customers.  B.  is  an  artizan ;  he  withdraws 

741 


742 


THEORY. 


IN   THE  TUNNEL— SIERRA  NEVADA. 

from  the  Church,  and  by  her  simple  fiat  she  deprives  him  of 
patrons.  C.  is  a  farmer,  an  apostate;  the  Church  orders  his 
neighbors  not  to  join  with  him,  and  to  deny  him  water-privi- 
leges, etc.  D.  is  a  miner,  who  gets  drunk  or  commits  some 
trifling  offence;  the  Church,  acting  openly  through  the  civil 
power,  takes  all  his  money  and  puts  him  on  the  chain-gang  a 
month.  Of  course  A.,  B.,  C.,  and  D.  ought  to  love  the  Church, 
and  pray  Congress  for  toleration  ;  but  somehow  we  do  not  love 
those  who  hate  us.  We  are  natives,  they  are  foreigners;  we 
are  mostly  Americans,  they  mostly  British  ;  we  love  a  republic, 
they  adore  a  theocracy ;  their  theory  is  that  power  comes  from 
the  head,  ours  that  it  proceeds  from  the  people;  they  believe 
most  of  the  Gentile  world  to  be  scoundrels  and  prostitutes,  and 
are  not  slow  to  say  so ;  they  want  us  to  stay  away ;  we  feel  that 
that  is  our  country  as  much  as  any  part  of  America ;  they  hate 


SILVER   PALACE   CARS. 


743 


DONNER  LAKE— SIERRA  NEVADA. 

us,  and  we  despise  them.  Beautiful  conditions  for  a  spontane- 
ous peace  !  It  is  nonsense  to  say  this  conflict  in  Utah  is  cre- 
ated, or  "worked  up  by  schemers;"  it  simply  exists.  Gentiles 
can  no  more  avoid  conflict  with  Mormons  than  with  Indians — 
unless  the  priesthood  permit  the  people  to  become  Americanized, 
and  soundly  democratized.  So  the  old  conflict  goes  on — in  one 
shape  or  another — first  one  side  getting  ahead  and  then  the 
other,  like  a  pair  of  balky  oxen  ;  or,  as  we  used  to  say  on  the 
Wabash,  "like  a  half  sled  on  ice." 

It  had  grown  monotonous,  and  after  a  few  days'  rest,  I  was 
off  for  the  Coast,  taking  passage  in  one  of  the  Silver  Palace  cars 
in  use  on  the  Central  Pacific.  The  company  have  discarded 
the  Pullman,  on  account,  as  they  allege,  of  its  extortionate 
charges ;  and  use  these  cars,  from  the  manufactory  of  Jackson  & 
Sharp.  They  are  decidedly  convenient  for  single  gentlemen, 
having  extensive  sitting  rooms  at  each  end,  in  which  smoking 


744 


SNOW  SHEDS. 


SNOW  SHEDS  ON  THE  CENTRAL  PACIFIC. 

is  allowed,  as  they  can  be  completely  shut  off  from  the  main 
room ;  but  in  other  respects  they  do  not  appear  to  me  as  com- 
fortable in  winter  as  the  Pullman.  Different  parts  of  the  car 
seem  to  heat  unequally. 

The  last  was  a  "  late  fall "  in  the  mountains,  but  we  had  a 
cold  night  on  the  Promontory  and  Goose  Creek  Range,  and  at 
daylight,  descending  the  slope  to  Humboldt,  found  the  ground 
covered  with  several  inches  of  snow.  As  we  moved  down  the 
Humboldt,  the  air  grew  sensibly  warmer,  and  after  noon  we 
saw  no  more  snow  on  the  plain.  But  it  was  already  six  inches 
deep  on  the  Sierras,  and  all  indications  were  that  winter  had 
regularly  set  in.  Between  the  first  station  on  Truckee  and 
Cape  Horn  are  forty  miles  of  snow  sheds,  said  by  competent 
judges  to  be  the  best  ever  constructed  in  the  world.  It  was 
here  the  English  Lord  complained  of  these  sheds  as  "a  blarsted 


DIFFERENT   ROUTES.  745 

long  depot — longest  I  ever  saw."  They  continue  down  the 
western  slope  to  an  elevation  of  only  4500  feet  above  the  sea, 
where  there  is  no  danger  of  a  blockade;  and  cost  a  million 
and  a  half.  No  snow  can  fall  sufficient  to  block  the  road,  as 
they  are  built  against  the  upper  side  in  such  a  way  as  to  shed 
it  into  the  deep  valleys,  inclining  to  one  side  or  the  other  with 
the  slope  of  the  hills. 

Down  the  western  slope  we  found  the  climate  moderating 
rapidly  every  mile.  Soon  we  were  out  of  the  snow  and  among 
the  brilliant  leaves  and  yellow  grass  which  mark  the  autumn 
scenery  of  the  Pacific  slope.  There  had  been  very  little  rain 
yet — only  two  light  showers — not  more  than  enough  to  mode- 
rate the  dust.  The  stimulating  air  and  cloudless  sky  showed 
that  the  rainy  season  was  not  regularly  begun ;  and  I  was  to 
have  delightful  weather  for  my  inland  journey  to  Oregon. 

The  route  from  Sacramento  to  Portland  consists  of  three 
divisions :  By  the  Oregon  Branch  of  the  Central  Pacific,  one 
hundred  and  seventy  miles  to  Reading,  present  terminus;  then 
two  hundred  and  eighty-two  miles  of  staging  to  Oakland,  then 
terminus  of  the  Oregon  and  California  road,  and  thence  one 
hundred  and  eighty-one  miles  on  that  road  to  Portland.  It  is 
an  open  question,  and  vehemently  argued  there,  whether  this 
or  the  route  from  San  Francisco  by  water  is  the  more  pleasant. 
Probably  it  depends  on  the  individual  traveler,  and  whether  he 
is  more  subject  to  sea  sickness  or  stage  sickness.  In  order  to 
give  an  intelligent  opinion,  I  went  one  route  and  returned  the 
other.  Through  tickets  from  Sacramento  to  Portland  this  way 
can  be  had  for  forty-five  dollars,  the  fare  by  water  ten  dollars 
less. 

As  we  move  out  of  Sacramento,  the  country  shows  signs  of 
some  rain  having  fallen  ;  the  bright  yellow  of  the  grass,  and 
summer-dried  look  of  the  leaves  have  yielded  to  a  velvety 
brown,  with  patches  of  pale  green ;  and  the  vineyards  and  fig 
orchards  show  that  the  face  of  nature  has  been  slightly  washed. 
As  we  proceed  northward  and  up  the  valley,  signs  of  fertility 
increase,  more  rain  has  fallen,  and  the  soil  is  naturally  much 
richer  than  the  red  plains  east  of  Sacramento.  At  sundown  we 


746  GENERAL  BIDWELL'S  RESIDENCE. 

stop  half  an  hour  at  Marysville,  in  Yuba  County,  a  beautiful 
place  of  some  five  thousand  people,  with  more  of  a  New  En<>-- 
land  look,  and  less  of  that  half-Spanish  air  which  marks  so 
many  California  towns. 

I  had  determined  to  stop  at  two  or  three  of  the  principal 
towns,  and  having  run  past  Chico  was  informed  that  I  had  left 
one  of  the  most  important;  accordingly  I  stopped  overnight 
at  Nord  Station,  and  returned  by  early  train  next  morning. 
The  principal  point  of  interest  here  is  the  great  ranche  of 
General  John  Bid  well,  containing  20,000  acres,  and  under  the 
best  general  cultivation  of  any  part  of  the  valley.  The  plains 
of  the  Sacramento  have  a  varying  width  of  from  twenty-five  to 
fifty  miles  between  the  Coast  Range  and  the  foothills  of  the 
Sierras.  In  a  state  of  nature,  they  were  neither  prairie  nor 
timbered,  but  "oak  openings,"  the  growth  very  scattering,  and 
abundant  grass  everywhere  among  the  trees. 

The  ranche  of  General  Bidwell  includes  part  of  the  city, 
and  his  magnificent  residence  is  but  twenty  minutes7  walk  from 
the  hotel.  Four  years  since  he  represented  this  district  in 
Congress,  and  ranks  here  as  a  pioneer  of  the  pioneers,  having 
come  to  California  during  the  "  first  invasion/7  in  1846.  This 
is  the  notable  year,  before  the  discovery  of  gold — the  same  year 
that  Governor  Boggs  and  party,  Judge  Thornton,  Edwin  M. 
Bryant — first  American  Alcade  of  San  Francisco — and  the 
unfortunate  Donner  party,  crossed  from  Missouri  and  Illinois; 
for  at  least  five  thousand  Americans  had  crossed  the  Plains, 
and  settled  in  California  before  the  "great  rush"  of  1849. 
Most  of  them  engaged  in  cattle-raising,  the  only  business  of  the 
Mexican  population ;  for  as  late  as  1850,  few  people  believed 
that  these  dry  summers  would  admit  of  regular  farming.  The 
General's  ranche  is  one  of  the  old  Mexican  grants,  to  which  the 
title  was  stipulated  for  by  the  treaty,  and  has  been  repeatedly 
confirmed  by  the  United  States  Courts.  All  the  fruits  and 
grains  of  the  temperate  zone  are  produced,  with  many  of  those 
of  the  tropics;  but  wheat  and  barley  are  the  principal  products. 
He  has  raised  some  corn  also  every  year,  but  only  a  few  of  the 
lowest  tracts  of  the  valley,  containing  most  moisture,  are  fit  for 


RAISIN   CULTURE.  747 

that  crop ;  the  long  dry  summers  would  require  too  expensive 
irrigation.  Even  of  the  moist  lands,  it  is  found  that  most  are 
more  profitable  for  hay  and  grazing,  and  corn  is  not  considered 
staple. 

The  ranche  has  a  hundred  and  fifty  acres  of  orchard,  and 
seventy-five  in  vineyard ;  hut  on  the  last  only  one-third  of  the 
vines  are  yet  bearing.  The  rest  are  one,  two,  and  three  years 
old.  The  General  is  going  extensively  into  the  raisin  business, 
now  planting  species  of  grapes  especially  for  their  manufacture. 
The  favorites  are  the  White  Muscat  of  Alexandria,  the  White 
Malaga,  and  White  Neisse,  The  first  is  by  far  the  sweetest. 
Another  kind,  imported  from  Spain,  and  known  as  the 
Fiahzagos,  makes  an  elegant  raisin,  but  they  are  thin-skinned, 
and  do  not  bear  transportation  well.  Hence  they  are  only 
useful  for  home  consumption.  So  far  the  preparation  of 
raisins  in  this  vicinity  has  proved  quite  a  success.  Mr.  J.  J. 
Moak,  of  Cliico,  last  year  shipped  a  large  quantity  which  are 
quoted  in  the  market  as  equal  to  any  from  the  Orient.  Sixty 
varieties  of  the  grape  are  now  produced  here,  of  which  a  third 
or  more  will  make  good  raisins.  There  is  inexhaustible  wealth 
in  these  foothills,  only  requiring  a  moderate  industry  to  develop 
it,  and  it  is  a  kind  of  wealth  that  is  permanent  and  increasing. 
A  vine  once  growing  and  productive,  is  good  for  two  genera- 
tions. The  use  of  grapes,  as  of  fruit  of  all  kinds,  is  on  the 
increase  here,  and  must  result  in  an  improvement  of  the  gene- 
ral health.  People  will  learn  to  use  fruit  more,  and  stimulants 
less.  When  this  country  was  first  settled,  men  lived  on  meat 
and  bread  alone  for  years.  Such  was  the  living  of  the  original 
Californians,  and  the  Americans  fell  into  their  ways ;  beef  only 
was  plenty  and  cheap,  and  beef  was  the  staff  of  life.  Such  a 
style  of  living  could  not  produce  the  highest  type  of  humanity. 
By  a  law  of  "  natural  selection,"  men  sought  only  the  most 
fiery  stimulants;  and  even  now  it  is  a  source  of  surprise  to 
visitors  that,  while  the  State  produces  the  finest  of  wines,  the 
national  beverage  of  California  is  whisky.  Arriving  at  a  way- 
side hotel  at  .this  season,  three  to  one  the  traveler  will  find  no 
fire;  and  if  he  complain,  the  common  answer  is:  "  Walk  right 


748 


FRUITS. 


into  the  bar — warm  you  up  for  four  bits,  and  heat  you  red  hot 
for  a  dollar."  This  is  a  remnant  of  the  tastes  of  the  early 
settlers,  who  worked  hard  and  lived  hard  on  beef,  pork,  and 
Chili  flour,  and  never  tasted  milk,  wine,  or  vegetables  for  years 
together. 

As  we  walked  around  the  grounds  adjacent  to  Bid  well  man- 
sion, we  saw  oranges,  olives  and  pomegranates  growing  luxuri- 
antly, while  the  borders  were  a  brilliant  maze  of  white  and  red, 
diversified  by  the  branching  palm,  pampas  grass  ten  feet  high, 
with  beautiful  white  plumes,  and  the  delicate  tints  of  the  giant 

oleander.  Workmen  were  busy 
covering  the  young  orange  trees, 
which  must  be  shielded  from  the 
coldest  winds  during  the  first 
three  or  four  years,  but  on  the 
full-grown  trees  the  growing 
oranges  were  nearly  of  full  size, 
the  green  rind  beginning  to 
change  to  a  pale  yellow. 

Just  now,  at  the  "  turn  of  the 
season,"  the  walking  is  pleasant; 
but  in  a  few  weeks  the  early 
rains,  generally  the  heaviest,  will 
create  a  landscape  of  mud,  very 
like  some  of  our  late  March  or 
early  April  scenes  in  Indiana. 

For  a  month  or  two  of  the 
California  winter  the  mud  is  dis- 
tressing. The  hardest  rain  is 
past  early  in  January,  the  ground 
has  become  firm,  the  roads  are 
good,  and  the  growing  season 

has  fairly  set  in.  Then  these  valleys  are  indeed  beautiful. 
Strawberries  and  other  early  fruits  are  soon  in  market,  the  plains 
are  of  a  rich  green,  plowing  is  pushed  forward  with  vigor, 
wheat  is  sown  and  springs  quickly  into  growing  life.  In 
March  the  rainy  season  appears  to  come  again,  though  generally 


ACORN  CACHES  OF  THE  CALI 
FORNIA  INDIANS. 


WHEAT.  749 

the  "later  rain"  is  light.  Thence  the  showers  grow  slowly 
less  and  less  frequent  till  some  time  in  May.  The  wheat  is 
about  full  grown,  early  potatoes  begin  to  appear,  and  slight 
signs  of  drought  are  manifest.  The  grass  gets  ripe,  the  Spanish 
oats  (wild)  begin  to  turn  yellow,  and  early  in  June  the  wheat 
is  harvested.  \ 

It  lies  or  stands  in  shocks  on  the  ground,  to  be  threshed  out 
at  will ;  for  no  rain  need  now  be  apprehended.  The  surface 
begins  to  show  signs  of  extreme  drought;  by  the  middle  of 
July  the  freshets  are  all  past  and  the  marshes  dried  up ;  the 
ground  cracks  open  in  long  fissures*  into  which  the  grass  seeds 
fall  and  are  preserved  to  another  growing  season.  As  summer 
advances  all  the  minor  vegetation  loses  its  green  ;  the  grass, 
dead  ripe,  stands  cured  to  a  bright  yellow,  varied  in  places  by 
a  dirty  brown;  creation  assumes  a  gray  and  dusty  color,  and 
only  the  purple  fig  leaves  and  faint  green  of  those  trees  which 
have  a  deeper  root  relieve  the  general  aspect  of  barrenness.  On 
the  slopes  of  the  Sierras  the  red  dust  lies  six  inches  in  depth, 
and  the  prospect  is  brightened  only  by  occasional  patches  of 
verdure  along  the  mountain  streams,  and  the  pale-green  oval 
leaves  of  the  manzanita.  Still  the  heavens  remain  clear.  Then 
one  may  see  through  the  valley  of  the  Sacramento  great  stacks 
of  wheat  in  sacks,  standing  in  the  open  fields  till  a  convenient 
time  arrives  for  hauling  it  away,  and  threshing  machines  run- 
ning in  the  open  air,  with  no  fear  of  rain.  The  stubble  of  the 
old  fields  retains  its  brightness,  and  the  long  dry  autumn  of 
California  is  fairly  inaugurated.  The  marshes  become  beds  of 
dust,  which  blows  up  in  stifling  clouds;  the  mirage  appears 
upon  the  plain  in  deceptive  floods  of  what  the  Mexicans  call 
"  lying  waters,"  the  tides  become  dry  as  tinder,  and  at  night  the 
Sacramento  is  lighted  for  miles  by  the  fires  that  rage  over  the 
same  area  where  eight  months  before  a  steamboat  could  ply  at 
ease.  The  yellow  grass  is  eaten  to  the  ground,  and  the  herds 
are  driven  far  up  the  mountains ;  the  dust,  which  has  become 
insufferable  in  the  roads,  seems  .to  blow  away  and  on  to  the 
fields ;  the  roads  are  often  bare  and  dry,  hardened  like  sunburnt, 
brick,  and  the  depressions  in  the  fields  knee  deep  in  dust.  The 


750  THE   RIGHT   TIME   TO   VISIT   CALIFORNIA. 

sky  at  last  appears  to  become  coppery,  or  obscured ;  the  sun 
rises  red  and  fiery,  and  disappears  about  4  o'clock  in  a  bank  of 
yellow  haze.  The  wind  on  the  coast,  which  has  been  from  the 
west  for  months,  begins  to  veer  round  to  the  southwest,  and 
people  begin  to  prepare  for  the  rainy  season.  A  few  boards  are 
nailed  on  the  worst  places  of  the  apology  for  shed  or  barn  ;  what 
wheat  remains  in  the  field  is  hastily  hauled  away  or  stored,  and 
the  California!!  is  prepared  for  winter.  After  a  few  preliminary 
showers  in  late  October  or  early  November,  the  "early  rain" 
begins  in  earnest;  torrents  of  water  descend  upon  beds  of  dust, 
and  all  creation  is  changed  to  a  sea  of  thin  mud.  But  this  con- 
tinues only  for  a  few  weeks ;  by  January  1  the  soil  again  becomes 
soaked  and  firm,  and  in  two  weeks  more  the  growing  and  de- 
lightful season  is  again  inaugurated. 

Moral :  If  you  are  coming  to  California  for  pleasure,  come 
between  New  Year's  and  the  Fourth  of  July. 

Between  Chico  and  Reading  I  encountered  the  first  rain  of 
the  season ;  but,  like  most  California  rains,  there  was  very  little 
bluster  about  it ;  the  rain  fell  in  a  steady  shower,  without  driving 
winds,  and  the  air  was  about  as  cool  as  that  of  early  April  in 
Ohio.  All  the  accompaniments  were  those  of  a  spring  rain  in 
the  East;  there  was  a  soft,  balmy  air,  the  grass  appeared  to 
revive  under  the  shower,  and  the  red  foot-hills  sent  down  vast 
streams  of  muddy  water,  through  gulches  which  had  been  dusty 
for  six  months. 

We  reached  Reading,  terminus  of  the  road,  at  midnight;  and 
the  stage  passengers  started  on  at  once  for  the  three  days'  ride 
to  the  south  end  of  the  Oregon  and  California  road.  After  a 
few  hours'  sleep  I  mounted  a  cayuse  and  rode  seven  miles  over 
the  hills  to  Shasta,  a  straggling  irregular  mountain  town,  stretch- 
ing two  or  three  miles  along  a  narrow  valley,  and  the  county 
seat  of  Shasta  County. 

Here  and  in  this  vicinity  are  the  materials  for  the  unwritten 
history  of  Mr.  Heiner  Miller,  now  better  known  to  the  literary 
public  as  Joaquin  (Wawkeen)  Miller  ;  he  resided  hereabouts  for 
three  years — 1856  to  1859 — and  did  not  adopt  his  poetical  title 
till  some  time  after  his  hurried  departure.  His  achievements 


DIGGER   INDIANS.  751 

are  still  celebrated  in  local  chronicles ;  his  Shasta  squaw  still 
lives  near  here,  and  in  the  county  are  many  traces  of  him.  He 
is  accused  of  all  sorts  of  misdemeanors,  and  the  county  records 
contain  papers  of  strange  import  as  to  his  reputation.  His 
Indian  wife  was  of  a  Pitt  River  band  of  the  Diggers,  and  now 
lives  with  an  old  mountaineer  named  Brock,  in  the  upper  part 
of  this  county.  Miller  joined  the  band  in  1856  and  lived  with 
them  nearly  two  years.  His  half-breed  daughter  was  born 
early  in  1857,  when  Miller  and  his  squaw  lived  in  a  cabin  on 
Cloud  River,  a  branch  of  the  Pitt,  at  the  foot  of  the  Shasta 
Mountains.  He  and  Brock  were  good  hunters,  and  supplied 
themselves  and  Indian  companions  plentifully  with  game,  but 
in  other  respects  lived  exactly  like  the  Indians.  The  staple 
food  of  the  Diggers  is  of  acorns,  grass-seeds,  pine  nuts  and 
kamas  roots ;  but  in  times  of  scarcity  they  eat  service-berries, 
manzanita  berries  and  the  balls  of  the  mountain  buckeye.  These 
last,  in  their  natural  state,  are  a  deadly  poison;  but  toward 
spring  they  become  comparatively  harmless.  Then  the  Diggers 
gather  and  pound  them  in  a  mass,  which  they  allow  to  freeze ; 
of  this  they  make  a  sort  of  paste  or  bread,  which  is  highly  nu- 
tritious. Their  great  luxury  is  dried,  or  tainted,  salmon  ;  and 
white  men,  strangely  enough,  learn  to  eat  it  so,  and  like  it  even 
more  tainted  than  do  the  savages.  But  this  Pitt  River  band 
appears  to  me  one  of  the  very  lowest  of  the  Digger  race ;  and 
from  the  specimens  I  have  seen  I  should  say  the  sight,  or  rather 
the  smell,  of  one  of  their  squaws  would  turn  the  stomach  of 
any  man  not  a  poet.  Nevertheless  many  old  mountaineers,  and 
even  some  later  comers,  are  to  be  found  cabined  among  these 
hills,  living  each  contentedly  with  his  squaw;  and  it  is  common 
testimony  that  after  a  white  man  has  lived  with  one  of  them 
two  or  three  years,  he  would  not  leave  her  for  the  best  white 
woman  in  the  country.  They  learn  to  do  housework  after  a 
fashion,  and  on  gala  days  rig  out  in 'hoops  and  waterfalls  of  most 
fantastic  pattern.  But  they  boil  or  roast  the  carcasses  of  their 
dead  relatives;  mix  the x grease  with  tar,  and  mat  it  on  their 
'heads  and  necks,  making  a  sort  of  helmet,  with  only  the  eyes 
and  mouth  free ;  then  for  seven  weeks  they  howl  on  the  hill- 


752 


VENUS    AND   ADONIS. 


tops  every  morning  and  evening  to  scare  away  the  evil  spirits. 
I  saw  one  of  these  "  in  mourning,"  and  am  convinced  that  if  • 
she  don't  scare  the  Devil  away,  he  must  be  a  spirit  of  some 
nerve.  A  white  man,  disposed  to  Indian  life,  can  adopt  all 
their  customs  in  a  month,  while  an  Indian  can  not  adopt  ours 
in  fifty  years.  Arithmetically  speaking,  it  is  a  hundred  times 
as  easy  for  a  white  man  to  go  wild  as  for  an  Indian  to  civilize. 
It  was  amid  such  associations  as  these,  and  in  a  wild  life 

among  the  beautiful 
scenery  of  these  moun- 
tains, that  Miller  first 
tried  his  hand  at  lit- 
erature. His  reading 
while  here  was  ex- 
clusively of  French 
romances,  amatory 
poetry,  and  the  lives 
of  pirates  and  robbers. 
From  one  of  the  last 
he  adopted  his  pre- 
sent name.  Joaquin 
Murietta  was  a  noted 
outlaw  and  murderer, 
some  years  before  the 
American  occupation, 
and  was  long  the 
terror  of  the  Upper 
Joaquin  Valley.  He 

VENUS  AND  ADONIS  "—DIGGER  INDIANS,    appears  to  have  been 

of    the    "dashing, 

chivalrous,"  Claude  Duval  style  of  bandits,  and  spent  his  gains 
freely  with  the  senoritas  of  Monterey  and  other  Mexican  towns. 
This  character  seems  to  have  fascinated  Miller.  The  most 
charitable  opinion  in  Shasta  about  the  latter  was  that  he  was 
slightly  insane  and  crazed  with  an  aifectation  to  imitate  the 
heroes  of  Spanish  romance. 

But  while  Miller  was  enjoying  himself  and  absorbing  poetic 


PITT    RIVER   MASSACRE.  753 

fire  from  the  companionship  of  Shasta  squaws,  a  serious  tragedy 
was  enacted,  which  nearly  proved  the  death  of  the  incipient 
poet.  In  January,  1857,  a  colony  of  twelve  whites,  on  Pitt 
River,  were  massacred  by  the  Indians,  some  of  the  same  race 
with  whom  Miller  was  living.  Among  the  settlers  were  twin 
brothers  named  Harry  and  Samuel  R.  Lockhart,  but  the  latter 
being  absent  down  the  river,  escaped,  the  only  survivor.  He 
swore  undying  vengeance  against  the  whole  Pitt  River  band, 
and  pursued  them  for  nine  years,  until  he  had  killed  twenty- 
five,  every  one  of  the  band  concerned  in  the  massacre.  He 
became  a  monomaniac  on  the  subject,  and  though  often  arrested 
by  the  Federal  authorities,  as  soon  as  released  took  to  the  moun- 
tains, "hunting  for  Shastas."  He  stole  two  Indian  children, 
and  made  them  spies  and  decoys,  and  by  their  aid  killed  several 
of  the  family  with  which  Miller  was  connected,  and  captured 
Miller  himself.  Uncertain  of  the  poet's  guilt,  he  tied  and 
brought  him  to  Yreka,  and  into  the  office  of  Judge  Rosborotigh, 
where  he  stood  guard  over  his  prisoner  for  two  nights  and  a 
day,  until  the  Judge  could  collect  the  evidence.  There  was 
none  to  criminate  Miller,  and  Lockhart  was  with  difficulty  per- 
suaded not  to  shoot  him. 

The  fate  of  Lockhart  was  a  melancholy  one.  After  the  last 
of  the  guilty  band  was  killed,  he  went  to  Silver  City,  Idaho, 
and  was  employed  by  the  noted  Hill  Beachy  as  a  guard  on  the 
Ida  El  more  Mine.  When  the  battle  took  place  over  the  pos- 
session of  the  mine,  Lockhart  was  shot  through  the  left  arm. 
Amputation  was  delayed  by  his  obstinacy,  until  Beachy  had 
convinced  him  there  would  still  be  enough  of  the  arm  left  to 
rest  a  rifle  across  and  take  aim.  It  was  then  too  late;  mortifi- 
cation followed,  and  he  died  a  terrible  death. 

We  were  off  from  Reading  by  the  stage  at  1  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  It  carried  all  the  delayed  mail  which  had  accumu- 
lated during  the  last  storm — seventeen  hundred  pounds  of  it.. 
On  the  top,  rear  and  "  boot/7  it  was  piled  as  long  as  it  could  be 
strapped  fast;  the  front  seat  was  filled  to  the  roof,  and  the  rest 
of  the  little  coach  was  left  for  seven  passengers  and  their  minor 
luggage.  Besides  myself,  there  were  an  old  man  returning 
48 


754  IMMENSE   TIMBER. 

home  to  Oregon  from  a  visit  "  to  the  States,"  two  invalids  to 
try  the  upper  country,  and  three  emigrants  to  Oregon,  but 
fortunately  no  ladies.  The  stage  company  had  done  the  best 
possible  under  the  circumstances,  but  the  storm  had  left  five 
feet  of  snow  on  the  other  route — there  are  two  stage  routes 
from  Reading — the  coaches  had  to  draw  off  that  line,  and 
delayed  mail  and  passengers  were  scattered  at  every  main 
station  along  the  way. 

At  daylight  we  were  ferried  over  Pitt  River,  and  entered 
fairly  upon  the  mountains.  The  valley  of  the  Sacramento, 
which  has  been  narrowing  northward  for  fifty  miles,  may  be 
said  to  stop  at  this  point,  as  the  spurs  of  the  Sierras  put  out 
westward  toward  the  Coast  Range,  and,  in  mining  parlance, 
"pinch  in  "upon  the  plain.  Pitt  River  is  really  the  Upper 
Sacramento,  being  the  largest  of  the  confluent  streams,  and 
preserving  a  general  course  southwestward,  after  emerging 
from  the  mountains.  Along  its  right  bluff,  we  preserved  a 
general  northeast  course  all  day.  Again  and  again  we  thought 
we  had  left  it,  as  the  coach  turned  directly  away  and  labored 
up  mountainous  passes,  and  along  frightful  "  dugways "  for 
miles,  to  an  elevation  of  hundreds  of  feet  above  the  stream ; 
then  we  would  turn  to  the  right,  and  come  thundering  down  a 
long  rocky  grade  for  two  or  three  miles  to  the  water's  edge 
again.  And  every  time  we  appeared  to  be  coming  back  to 
the  same  place :  there  were  the  same  timbered  hills  and  rocky 
bluffs,  perpendicular  on  one  side  of  the  stream  and  sloping  on 
the  other ;  the  same  immense  gray  boulders,  rocky  islands  and 
towers  in  the  bed  of  the  stream,  and  the  same  white  foaming 
rapids.  For  fifty  miles  the  river  is  a  series  of  cascades  and 
rapids ;  and  though,  through  our  ups  and  downs,  we  but  kept 
even  with  the  stream,  we  must  have  been  gaining  rapidly  in 
general  elevation.  The  sun  rose  clear,  and  the  bright  day  and 
sublime  scenery  made  us  forget  the  fatigues  of  the  way.  The 
immense  timber  through  which  this  road  runs  is  a  constant 
astonishment  to  the  traveler.  For  two  hundred  miles,  broken 
only  by  two  or  three  open  spaces,  stretches  9,  vast  forest  of  firs 
and  pines  of  every  diameter,  from  one  to  ten  feet.  Here  is  in- 


MOUNT   SHASTA. 


755 


BOUGH  ON  THE  OLD  MAN. 

exhaustible  wealth  in  lumber.  Both  are  good ;  the  fir  is  harder 
to  work  than  the  pine,  but  is  more  durable;  and  the  timber 
alone  would  amply  repay  the  cost  of  the  projected  railroad. 
With  facilities  for  shipping,  every  acre  of  these  woods  would  be 
worth  from  five  hundred  to  a  thousand  dollars. 

At  last,  near  night,  we  left  the  river  and  worked  slowly  up 
hill  for  two  hours  to  a  sort  of  mountain  plateau.  Crossing  this 
we  saw  to  our  right  Mount  Shasta,  14,400  feet  high,  presenting 
in  the  cold,  clear  moonlight  a  view  of  indescribable  beauty. 
The  lower  portion  looked  like  polished  marble,  shading  off  by 
degrees  to  a  bright  green  ;  while  the  summit,  covered  all  the 
year  with  snow  and  ice,  appeared  a  monument  of  dazzling 
whiteness. 

Sentiment  was  soon  overpowered  by  sense ;  for,  though  we 
had  gained  two  hours  of  troubled  sleep  on  the  ascent,  rest  was 
impossible  on  the  descent.  The  drivers,  to  "gain  time,"  took 
advantage  of  all  the  down-grades ;  the  coach  bumped  over  great 
boulders,  and  threw  us  against  the  roof  and  back  against  the 


756  ROUGH   COACH    RIDING. 

seats  till  phrenological  development  went  on  at  both  ends  with 
most  uncomfortable  rapidity.  The  old  man,  occupying  the 
middle  of  our  seat,  took  up  at  least  half  of  it,  and  every  lurch 
our  way  threw  his  whole  weight  on  me,  while  his  groans  and 
smothered  curses  made  me  fear  several  times  in  the  night  that 
he  would  die*  right  on  top  of  me. 

Lean  men,  in  general,  can  not  endure  coach  riding  as  well  as 
plump  ones;  and  I  think  (if  there  be  any  truth  in  Darwinism) 
in  my  years  of  travel  I  ought  to  have  grown  or  " developed"  a 
series  of  pads  on  the  angles  which  strike  the  vehicle.  Nature 
probably  knew  what  she  was  about  when  she  gave  man  his 
present  make-up,  but  she  evidently  intended  him  for  turning  up 
the  soil  in  a  level  country.  For  mountaineering  I  could  suggest 
an  improvement — a  cast-iron  backbone  with  a  hinge  in  it,  ter- 
minating below  in  a  sole-leather,  copper-lined  flap. 

We  reached  Yreka  (only  four  hours  behind  time)  at  2  A.  M., 
and  the  old  man,  two  invalids  and  myself  tumbled  out  of  the 
coach,  exhausted,  and  applied  for  a  "  lay  over,"  unable  to  go 
further.  Nine  hours7  sleep  did  me  some  good,  though  I  felt 
as  if  I  had  been  pounded  from  hoad  to  foot  with  a  clapboard. 
Passengers  usually  ride  through  the  two  hundred  and  eighty 
miles  between  the  railroads  without  stopping,  but  I  learned  at 
the  telegraph  office  that  the  last  five  loads  are  scattered  all  the 
way,  stopping  at  convenient  places  for  the  next  coach,  then 
riding  fifty  or  a  hundred  miles,  or  as  long  as  they  can  stand  it. 

Yreka  is  a  place  of  wonderful  beauty.  From  the  town  a 
gently  undulating  valley  extends  in  every  direction,  rising  by  a 
succession  of  timbered  foothills  to  the  lofty  mountains,  whose 
notched  and  pointed  summits,  now  dazzling  white  with  snow, 
seem  to  join  the  blue  heavens  or  lose  themselves  in  clouds.  But 
it  is  only  on  the  points  of  the  mountains  that  any  mist  can  be 
seen ;  above  us  the  sky  is  cloudless,  and  the  cool  air  is  exhilarat- 
ing as  some  ethereal  gas.  It  is  difficult  to  give  Eastern  readers 
a  general  description  of  California  climate.  When  so-called 
generally,  it  always  means  the  climate  of  the  interior,  which  is 
three-fourths  of  agricultural  California,  including  the  Sacra- 
mento, Joaquin  and  Tulare  Valleys.  But  there  are  also  at  least 


MINING.  757 

thirty  minor  valleys  opening  out  of  the  Sierras,  of  which  each 
has  a  different  climate  ;  from  Sonora,  where  lemons  and  pome- 
granates ripen,  and  flowers  bloom  all  the  year,  to  Yreka,  where 
snow  often  lies  upon  the  ground  a  month,  and  the  cool  stimu- 
lating air  in  winter  is  like  that  of  late  October  in  New  England. 
A  few  miles  east  of  Yreka  is  the  home  of  the  Modocs,  and 
soon  after  the  region  becomes  historic  on  account  of  that  curious 

O 

"  tempest-in-a-teapot,"  the  Modoc  War.  Like  all  old  mining 
counties,  this  is  heavily  taxed.  In  some  counties  the  taxes  have 
often  amounted  to  five  per  cent,  on  the  valuation.  When  I 
visited  the  State  first,  in  1869,  her  politicians  were  discussing 
the  project  of  having  the  State  afford  relief  to  some  of  them. 
This  was  officially  decided  to  be  unconstitutional ;  but  it  is  now 
suggested  that  it  may  be  done  indirectly,  by  allowing  these 
counties  a  rebate  on  State  taxes.  A  mining  population  of  ten 
thousand  or  more  organized  a  county  on  a  magnificent  basis, 
voted  public  works  and  bonds  to  erect  them,  and  thus  imposed 
a  debt  which  would  not  have  been  oppressive  to  such  a  popula- 
tion. But  the  miners  nearly  all  left,  and  a  community  of  three 
or  four  thousand  farmers,  graziers  and  wine-growers  have  to 
pay  the  debt  and  run  the  county. 

Mining  began  near  Yreka  in  1850,  in  Shasta  County  then; 
and  the  town  was  known  as  Shasta  Butte  City.  The  real, 
aboriginal  name  is  Wyeka ;  as  no  Indian  uses  the  letter  "  r " 
any  more  than  a  Chinaman,  and  that  name  is  still  seen  on  one 
of  the  oldest  signs.  There  is  a  tradition  that  a  Dutch  baker 
painted  the  present  name  on  his  sign  by  mistake,  and  it  was 
noted  that  Yreka  Bakery  spelt  the  same  both  ways,  which  struck 
the  citizens  as  such  a  curious  and  happy  combination  that  it  was 
retained  by  general  consent.  In  like  manner  the  name  of  the 
new  county  soon  organized,  Siskiyou,  is  supposed  to  result  from 
the  Indians  and  miners'  attempt  to  pronounce  the  French  Six 
Cailloux  ("  six  boulders "),  the  name  of  the  district  from  six 
large  rocks  in  the  river.  As  one  of  the  old  settlers  informed 
me,  most  of  the  early  comers  learned  French  and  Indian  by  the 
aid  of  a  "sleeping  dictionary,"  the  pronounciation  is  not  strictly 
academic.  When  the  miners  first  came  they  learned  that  a 


758 


JUSTICE. 


Scotchman  named  McKie  had  been  living  among  the  Klamaths 
for  forty  years,  and  was  very  popular  with  them ;  hence  their 
first  salutation  was  "  Mak  a  Mahkee  ?" — "  Are  you  a  McKie  ?  " 
or  good  white  man — a  question  which  facts  soon  answered  in 
the  negative.  The  records  of  the  early  Courts  are  ludicrous. 
The  first  Alcalde,  in  1851,  was  known  as  "  Cut-eye  Foster," 
but  he  left  no  docket,  and  soon  ran  away,  and  George  C.  Vail 
reigned  in  his  stead.  No  law  book  was  ever  used  in  his  Court; 
he  decided  each  case  on  its  own  merits,  writing  out  the  full 
history,  and  his  docket  is  a  curiosity.  In  one  case  brought  be- 
fore him,  a  boy  had  driven  a  team  from  Oregon  and  worked  all 
winter  for  a  man,  who  declined  to  pay.  He  sold  out  in  the 
spring  and  was  leaving  suddenly  when,  on  complaint  of  the 
boy,  Vail  and  two  constables  stopped  him  on  the  road.  It  was 
proved  that  he  had  received  three  thousand  dollars  on  his  sale, 
but  he  declared  himself  unable  to  pay,  though  not  denying  the 
boy's  claim.  Judge  Vail  decided  in  these  words:  " Constables, 
stand  this  man  on  his  head,  shake  him  well,  and  see  if  you 
can't  hear  something  drop !  "  No  sooner  said  than  done.  A 
vigorous  shaking  brought  to  light  a  wallet  containing  two  thou- 
sand dollars  in  gold  dust;  the  boy  received  his  claim  of  three 
hundred  dollars,  the  Judge  and  constables  took  an  ounce  apiece 
for  their  trouble,  and  the  defendant  went  his  way  a  lighter  man. 
Justice  like  this  was  cheap  at  three  ounces. 

The  next  coach  did  not  arrive  till  4  in  the  morning,  giving  us 
a  night's  rest,  and  four  exhausted  passengers  took  a  "  lay-over," 
making  room  for  the  recuperated  four  to  go  on.  We  traveled 
northwest  for  two  or  three  hours,  crossing  theKlamath  Eiverby 
a  "swing-ferry"  soon  after  daylight.  I  was  surprised  at  the  size 
of  this  stream,  which  is  not  among  the  noted  rivers  of  the  coast; 
it  looked  big  enough  at  the  crossing  for  navigation  with  good- 
sized  boats.  The  valley  amounts  to  but  little  agriculturally,  as  the 
stream  runs  between  rugged  hills  through  most  of  its  course;  but 
on  its  head-waters  is  the  greatest  game  and  fishing  region  in  the 
West,  if  not  in  the  world.  Every  kind  of  game  known  to  the 
Sierras  is  abundant,  and  the  cold  waters  of  Klamath  Lake  and 
tributaries  are  alive  with  trout.  It  is  the  paradise  of  sportsmen, 


FINE   CLIMATE.  759 

and  nothing  but  its  remote  and  inaccessible  position  prevents  its 
being  a  region  of  great  resort.  Our  ride  to-day  was  a  pleasant 
surprise :  we  bad  no  rugged  mountains  to  cross,  and  the  coacb 
was  quite  comfortable.  Soon  after  leaving  the  Klamath  we 
enter  Oregon,  and  the  impression  given  on  this  road  is  that  the 
State  is  covered  by  one  immense  and  gloomy  forest.  In  places 
the  very  daylight  seemed  to  vanish  into  a  mild  twlight,  and,  in 
the  few  "  clearings "  we  passed  through,  the  sunshine  was 
novel  and  enjoyable.  After  noon  the  country  began  to  show 
signs  of  improvement;  settlers'  cabins  became  numerous,  and, 
after  running  down  a  narrow  caiion,  we  came  out  into  the 
beautiful  valley  of  Rogue  Kiver.  Here  is  said  to  be  the  finest 
climate  in  Oregon,  and  to  wearied  passengers  just  over  the 
mountains  the  sight  was  like  a  revelation  of  beauty.  Where 
we  enter,  the  valley  is  no  more  than  two  miles  wide,  but  as  we 
go  down  it  widens  gradually  to  five,  thirteen  or  twenty,  while 
on  every  hand  appear  fine  farms,  thrifty  orchards,  great  piles 
of  red  and  yellow  apples  of  wondrous  size,  barns  full  of  wheat 
and  fine  stock,  and  we  feel  with  delight  that  we  are  out  of  the 
mountains  and  u  in  the  settlements/7  Though  far  retired  from 
the  road,  the  mountains  still  appear  rugged  and  lofty,  sending 
out  a  succession  of  rocky  spurs — one  every  two  or  three  miles — 
and  between  these,  far  back  into  the  hills,  extend  most  beautiful 
coves  in  long  fan-like  shapes.  The  air  was  mild,  the  roads  firm 
and  smooth,  and  the  coach  rolled  along  with  just  enough  of 
motion  to  give  variety — and  appetite. 

Everybody  and  everything  we  saw  had  the  unmistakable 
"  Oregon  look."  We  were  among  the  "  Web-feet "  at  last,  and 
a  comely  race  they  are,  if  I  may  judge  from  the  plump  forms 
and  fresh,  clear  complexions  I  saw  on  this  part  of  the  route. 
The  climate  had  no  suggestions  of  extra  dampness;  the  sky  was 
clear  and  the  air  cool  and  dry,  with  the  general  features  of 
Indian  Summer  in  Ohio.  Double  plows  were  running  in  many 
of  the  fields,  "  breaking  fallow  for  spring  wheat,"  the  natives 
said,  and  the  apples,  just  gathered,  were  lying  in  heaps,  to  be 
stored  away  the  last  of  the  month,  showing  that  no  freeze  is  to 
be  apprehended  before  December.  Though  not  extensive,  this 


760  PRICE   OF   A    MEAL. 


FALLS  OF  THE  WILLAMETTE. 

is  one  of  the  finest  valleys  in  Oregon,  and  well  settled.  Land 
appears  to  be  as  high  as  in  the  rural  districts  of  Indiana.  All 
the  farmers  whom  I  questioned  at  the  stations  held  theirs  at 
fifty  or  sixty  dollars  per  acre. 

At  the  principal  town,  the  four  immigrants  got  out,  leaving 
the  coach  to  two  of  us,  and,  soon  after,  we  entered  upon  the  last 
mountain  drive.  The  range  \vas  low,  but  the  night  was  too 
cold  for  sleep.  Daylight  came  upon  us  in  the  dense  woods  that 
lie  between  Cow  Creek  and  the  South  Umpqua,  and  under  the 
heavy  interlocking  branches  it  was  still  hazy  at  8  o'clock.  The 
stock  at  the  stage  of  stations  seemed  quite  worn  out,  from  the 
late  storm  and  extra  work,  and  our  progress  was  slow.  Old 
settlers  tell  me  that  but  one-fifth  of  Oregon  is  covered  with 
timber,  but  from  the  route  I  came  I  should  have  guessed  nine- 
tenths.  In  the  thickest  part  of  the  timber  we  ran  out  into  day- 
light at  a  cleared  space  of  perhaps  a  mile  square,  with  a  dozen 
dwellings  and  home  station,  where  we  took  breakfast.  Every- 
where on  this  line  "four  bits"  in  coin  is  the  customary  price 
of  a  meal ;  "one  bit"  for  a  cigar  or  drink,  and  if  you  pass  out 
twenty-five  cents  the  dealer  hands  back  a  dime.  If  you  pay  a 
dime,  it  is  all  right.  The  people  are  so  accustomed  of  old  to 
high  prices  that  the  difference  of  two-and-a-half  cents  between 
a  dime  and  a  "bit"  is  not  taken  account  of.  Thence  we 


TRAVELING.  761 

entered  on  a  timbered  canon,  down  which  we  made  but  fifteen 
miles  in  four  hours.  The  heavy  coach  alone  was  a  load,  over 
the  rocky  road,  for  the  four  horses,  every  one  of  which  lilled 
exactly  Isaiah's  description  of  the  natural  man,  their  whole 
heads  were  sick  and  their  whole  hearts  faint,  and  from  tho 
crown  of  the  head  to  the  sole  of  the  foot  they  were  wounds  and 
bruises  and  putrefying  sores.  We  were  now  so  near  the  settled 
Willamette  Valley  that  lumber  is  an  object,  and  the  whole 
trade  of  this  district  consists  in  getting  out  logs  and  floating 
them  down  Canon  Creek  to  the  Cafionville  sawmills.  Driving 
hour  after  hour  through  these  seemingly  endless  forests,  often 
hidden  from  the  sunlight  in  their  somber  shades,  it  seems 
strange  that  lumber  should  be  scarce  anywhere,  for  here  ia 
enough  of  it  to  supply  the  Nation  for  half  a  century.  But  the 
railroad  is  needed  to  make  it  available,  and  the  general  opinion 
there  is  that  the  road  will  not  be  completed  for  some  years. 

The  same  company  own  the  road  that  own  the  principal  line 
of  ocean  steamers  from  Portland  to  Sari  Francisco ;  and  it  is 
freely  stated  that  they  only  want  the  road  to  the  head  of  Willa- 
mette Valley  to  serve  as  a  "  feeder"  to  their  ocean  line,  and  that 
to  construct  it  through  would  be  only  to  make  a  rival  for  them- 
selves. As  the  routes  now  are,  I  will  "take  sea-sickness  in 
mine'7  rather  than  travel  by  stage  over  the  Shasta  Mountains 
again. 

At  Cafionville  we  ran  out  into  the  Umpqua  Valley,  at  the 
point  where  the  river  comes  in  from  the  east.  Crossing  it  by 
an  uneasy  and  dangerous  bridge,  we  travel  down  the  east  side 
of  the  valley  the  rest  of  the  day,  as  the  river  there  turns  due 
north.  Many  clear  and  pretty  streams  dash  clown  from  the 
Cascade  Range,  cross  our  road  and  the  valley,  and  empty  into 
the  Umpqua.  The  valley  is  larger  than  that  of  Rogue  River, 
but  the  climate  does  not  appear  so  genial.  The  Cascade  Range, 
which  is  really  a  northward  continuation  of  the  Sierra  Nevadas, 
bends  in  more  toward  the  coast;  hence,  none  of  these  valleys  are 
so  wide  as  those  of  the  Sacramento  and  Joaquin  in  California. 

After  a  long  pause  at  Oakland,  the  Oregon  and  California 
road  had  just  been  completed  to  Roseburgh,  where  we  arrived 


762  WILLAMETTE   VALLEY. 

at  dark,  and  saved  eighteen  miles  of  staging,  as  we  expected  to 
go  to  Oakland  when  we  left  Reading. 

The  hardships  of  my  trip  were  over  when  I  reached  the  end 
of  the  Oregon  and  California  road,  and  I  was  in  a  condition  to 
properly  appreciate  railroads.  And  I  fully  realize  that  in  spite 
of  all  which  has  been  done  in  the  last  ten  years,  Oregon  is  still 
a  long  way  from  "the  States,"  and  an  exceedingly  difficult 
place  to  get  to.  I  used  to  wonder  why  a  naturally  rich  and 
very  extensive  country,  which  had  been  in  process  of  settlement 
for  nearly  a  third  of  a  century,  should  still  have  less  than  a 
hundred  thousand  people ;  but  I  now  understand  it.  I  can  not 
remember  a  more  pleasant  trip  than  our  slow  Sunday  ride  down 
the  Willamette  Valley.  Roseburgh  is  a  little  beyond  the 
(<  divide/7  and  on  the  slopes  leading  down  to  the  Klamath 
River;  but  the  intermediate  ridge  is  not  very  high,  and  moun- 
tain spurs  always  look  much  more  romantic  from  the  inside  of 
a  comfortable  car. 

Forty  miles  brought  us  fairly  down  into  the  Willamette — the 
great  valley  of  Oregon.  It  is  a  hundred  and  forty  miles  long, 
with  an  average  width  of  forty  miles — five  or  six  thousand 
square  miles  of  the  most  fertile  land  in  the  world.  The  day  was 
like  those  of  our  late  October,  and  the  train  seemed  a  sort  of 
excursion  outfit  for  the  people  at  the  various  villages  along  the 
way;  twelve  hours  were  consumed  in  making  the  run,  giving 
ample  time  to  study  the  natives.  The  "  Webfoot"  is  sm  generis  ; 
there  is  a  distinctively  Oregonian  look  about  all  the  natives  and 
old  residents  which  is  hard  to  describe.  Certainly  they  are  not 
an  enterprising  people.  They  drifted  in  here  all  along  from 
1845  to  1855,  and  some  of  them  at  an  even  earlier  period,  when 
many  western  Americans  came  to  the  Pacific  coast  to  engage  in 
cattle  raising — not  considering  the  country  fit  for  much  else. 
They  left  Missouri  and  Illinois — most  of  them — because  those 
States  were  even  then  "  too  crowded77  for  them,  and  they  wanted 
to  get  away  where  "  they  was  plenty  o7  range  and  plenty  o7 
game,77  and  have  a  good,  easy  time.  With  one  team  to  each 
family  (time  being  no  object  to  such  people)  it  cost  them  nothing 
to  move ;  and  the  peculiar  land  laws  applied  to  Oregon  gave 


SETTLERS. 


763 


them  every  advantage,  and  have  been  a  serious  hindrance  to 
settlement  ever  since.  Each  single  male  settler  could  acquire 
title  to  'three  hundred  and  twenty  acres,  and  each  married  man 
to  six  hundred  and  forty ;  there  were  besides  some  inducements 
to  families,  so  that  the  birth  of  a  child  was  a  pecuniary  advan- 
tage to  the  parents.  The  result  was  that  hundreds  of  girls  of 
eleven,  twelve  and  thirteen  years  of  age  were  married ;  and  the 
further  result,  that  all  this  fine  land  is  owned  in  vast  bodies  by 
these  old  families,  many  of  whom  will  neither  sell,  improve,  nor 
hire  any  one  else  to  improve.  They  acknowledge  their  own 
laziness,  and  talk  about  it  so  good-humoredly  that  one  is  com- 
pelled to  sympathize  with  them.  One  of  the  better  class  gave 
me  this  account:  "These  old  Pikers  don't  want  the  country 
fenced  up  and  the  game  scared  off.  What  do  they  care  about 
your  style  o'  livin'  ?  One  of  'em  will  go  out  and  tramp  a  week 
till  he  can  kill  a  deer — then  bring  it  home,  and  while  his  wife 
cuts  it  up,  he'll  lay  down  and  sleep  and  sleep  till  his  head  aches; 
then  he'll  get  up  and  eat  and  eat  till  his  belly  aches;  then  he'll 
sit  on  a  log  and  whittle  and  whittle  till  his  back  aches,  and  then 
he'll  think  o'  goin'  after  another  deer."  I  think  the  climate 
adds  something  to  their  natural  laziness.  It  is  delightfully 
balmy,  mild  and  temperate  for  about  seven  months  in  the  year, 
and  the  rest  of  the  time  foggy,  muggy,  and  neither  warm  nor 
cold.  Their  chief  export  is  wheat;  on  this  xU'%">  depend  for 
supplies.  In  townships  where  thousands  of  bushels  of  apples 
lie  rotting  on  the  ground  it  is  impossible  to  get  a  drink  of  cider, 
and  most  of  them  tell  me  that  they  import  their  dried  fruit  from 
California.  And  "land  is  high,  too.  Inquiring  along  the  way 
between  Eugene  City  and  Portland,  I  find  it  held  everywhere 
from  twenty  to  sixty  dollars  per  acre,  and  the  annual  rent  is 
stated  at  from  two  dollars  and  fifty  cents  to  five  dollars.  These 
facts  do  not  strike  me  as  encouraging  to  immigration,  though 
this  valley  has  not  one-fourth  the  agricultural  population  it 
ought  to  have  to  equal  most  of  the  Western  States. 

The  soil  is  wonderful,  being  in  many  places  from  fifteen  to 
thirty  feet  in  depth,  literally  inexhaustible.  And  for  location  it 
is  extremely  fortunate.  The  high  Cascade  Range  shuts  off  all 


764 


BEAVER   LANDS. 


PORTLAND— OREGON— FROM  EAST  SIDE  OF  WILLAMETTE. 

hard  winter  storms;  the  lower  Coast  Range  on  the  west  only 
admits  the  mildest  airs  of  the  Pacific  ;  the  summers  never  get  so 
dry  or  hot  as  in  California;  all  the  rains  are  gentle,  and  de- 
structive storms  and  freshets  are  unknown.  The  surprisingly 
slow  development  of  such  a  region  can  only  be  accounted  for  by 
the  facts  I  have  stated.  The  new  settlers  eagerly  seize  on  every 
chance  for  improvement,  and  are  doing  considerable;  but  it  is 
complained  that  these  old  fellows  "hold  on  to  the  land  like 
burrs,  and  die  mighty  slow."  And  from  longer  experience  with 
the  "first  families,"  I  am  driven  to  the  painful  conclusion  that 
about  a  hundred  first-class  funerals  would  prove  a  great  advan- 
tage to  Oregon. 

In  the  lower  portions  of  the  valley  the  road  traverses  what 
are  called  "  Beaver  Lands/'  said  to  be  the  choicest  of  all  the 
lands  in  Oregon.  The  theory  of  their  origin  is  that  the  beavers, 
by  damming  up  the  shallow  creeks  and  building  their  houses  in 
them,  caused  the  beds  and  adjacent  low  lands  to  overflow  and 
fill  with  accumulations  of  earthy  matter  and  decayed  vegetable 
deposits.  This  must  have  been  the  work  of  many  centuries, 
and  has  left  a  soil  which  only  grows  more  fertile  by  cultivation. 
But  these  lands  are  found  nowhere  but  in  the  Willamette  Valley, 
and  do  not  altogether  exceed  twenty  thousand  acres. 


ALMOST    A    LONDON    FOG.  765 

There  were  only  two  or  three  towns  along  the  way  of  much 
importance.  Eugene  City,  near  the  head  of  the  river,  looked 
rather  more  lively  than  Oregon  generally.  Salem  had  a  de- 
lightfully quiet  New  England  Sabbath  look,  and  Oregon  City, 
at  the  falls  of  the  Willamette,  had  the  appearance  of  a  thriving 
manufacturing  town.  To  one  lately  accustomed  to  the  driving 
ways  of  the  Union  Pacific  and  Iowa  roads,  there  does  not  ap- 
pear to  be  any  particular  stir  about  the  Oregon  and  California 
road.  On  the  upper  (southern)  end  I  saw  enough  to  convince 
me  that  they  do  intend  to  continue  it  some  time.  The  papers 
announce  with  an  air  of  confidence  that  it  will  be  completed  to 
the  connection  in  California  by  1874.  If  the  "  Webfeet"  don't 
display  more  enterprise  in  this  than  in  other  things  I've  noticed, 
I  should  say  1974  would  be  nearer  the  figures. 

I  reached  Portland  at  sunset  of  a  beautiful  Sabbath  evening 
— not  at  all  suggestive  of  the  fog  and  rain  which  are  generally 
attributed  to  this  climate.  For  two  days  the  weather  was  de- 
lightful, though  everybody  spoke  of  it  as  the  coldest  they  had 
ever  experienced.  The  wind  was  from  the  northwest,  very 
gentle,  the  sky  clear,  and  ice  half  an  inch  thick  formed  on  the 
gutters — a  rare  thing  in  Portland.  In  the  evening  the  ther- 
mometer rose  from  28°  to  38°,  and  next  morning  I  wondered 
why  I  waked  up  and  was  so  restless  in  the  night.  I  turned 
over  suddenly,  and  an  old  shot  wound  in  the  knee  gave  me  a 
fearful  wrench.  Then  I  felt  something  like  ague  along  my 
backbone.  I  struck  a  match,  looked  at  my  watch,  and  it  was 
nearly  8  o'clock. 

Such  a  fog!  One  could  almost  chew  it  up  and  spit  it  out. 
With  a  sharp  knife  it  might  be  cut  out  in  chunks  and  stored  for 
dry  weather.  They  say  the  winters  here  are  healthful.  It  must 
be  for  differently  constituted  lungs  from  mine.  It  don't  seem 
to  me  like  breathing ;  it  is  rather  a  sort  of  pulmonic  swallowing. 
Only  the  smoke  and  dust  of  a  great  city  here  is  needed  to  give 
Portland  occasional  fogs  fully  equal  to  those  of  London.  This 
fog  continued  till  noon,  then  broke  away,  and  a  gentle  drizzle 
finished  the  day.  Portlanders  all  agree  that  they  have  the 
finest  climate  in  the  world  in  summer,  and  part  of  the  spring 


766 


CLIMATE. 


STREET  IN  OLYMPIA— WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 

and  fall ;  but  admit  that  it  is  rather  unpleasant  for  three  or  four 
months  of  winter.  Rain  may  be  expected  at  any  moment  when 
the  thermometer  is  above  35°.  If  the  rain  happens  to  miss  a 
day  or  two  the  fog  may  be  depended  on.  At  such  a  time  the 
wind,  what  little  there  is,  is  mostly  from  the  southwest.  As 
soon  as  it  comes  from  the  northwest  the  mercury  drops  to  30°,' 
or  lower,  the  sky  clears,  the  clouds  sail  away  to  the  southwest, 
and  cool  delightful  weather  follows.  It  is  evident  by  a  mere 
glance  at  the  country,  that  Portland  can  never  get  so  dry  and 
hot  in  summer  as  do  most  of  the  towns  in  California.  The 
heavily-timbered  hills  all  around  indicate  a  very  different  con- 
dition; and  it  is  the  universal  testimony  that  the  summers  are 
temperate  and  pleasant. 


CHAPTER   XXXVI. 

IN  CONCLUSION. 

Season  too  late— Washington  Territory—"  Good-bye,  Jonah  "—Down  the  Willa- 
mette— In  the  Columbia — A  fog — Salmon  fisheries — Strange  instincts  of  the 
salmon — On  the  heaving  ocean — "  The  first  to  fall " — Down  below — "  Just  a 
Iktle  qualmish  "—Philosophy  on  the  subject— Smoother  water—"  On  an  even 
keel  " — Arrival  at  Frisco — Bancroft  &  Co. — Homeward  bound. 

HAD  delayed  too  long  on  the  eastern  end  of  the  line, 
for  the  heavy  Oregon  rain  was  coming  fast,  the  roads 
were  becoming  intolerable,  and  it  was  too  late  to  make  a 
tour  in  Washington  Territory  without  great  discom- 
fort. 

To  go  all  the  way  to  Oregon  to  visit  the  west  end  of  the 
North  Pacific,  and  return  without  doing  so,  is  somewhat  like  the 
case  of  some  of  my  friends,  who  go  all  the  way  to  California  to 
see  the  Yosemite,  and  then  are  scared  at  the  stage  ride,  and  do 
not  go.  Nevertheless,  it  is  just  what  I  did.  During  the  five 
days  I  spent  in  Portland,  I  met  from  five  to  fifty  persons  a  day 
just  returned  from  the  upper  country,  and  the  unanimous 
opinion  was:  "It  is  too  late  for  you  to  go  and  see  anything." 
All  who  were  interested  in  that  country  urged  me  not  to  go  and 
see  it  at  this  season,  as  they  were  certain  I  would  bring  up  an 
evil  report  of  the  land. 

Portland  is  located  on  the  west  side  of  the  Willamette  (pro- 
nounced WiWam-et),  twelve  miles  above  its  mouth,  at  the  head 
of  navigation.  They  have  two  feet  of  tide-water,  but  back- 
water from  the  Columbia  often  causes  great  rises,  giving  the 
surface  of  the  stream  a  variation  of  thirty -two  feet.  At  the 
anchorage  I  noted  one  English  vessel,  one  loading  for  the  Sand- 
wich Islands,  and  two  ocean  steamers,  for  ports  on  this  coast, 

767 


768 


POKTLAND. 


PUGET   SOUND   AND  MT.   KAINIEB. 


besides  a  number  of  small- 
er Columbia  River  steam- 
ers. West  of  the  city  is  a 
range  of  high  wooded 
hills,  covered  mostly  with 
fir  timber.  There  being  a 
considerable  bend  in  the 
river,  the  range  of  hills 

runs  straight  across  the  bend,  leaving  a  flat  and  slope  about  a 
mile  deep  and  three  miles  long,  about  half  of  which  the  city 
covers.  The  streets  run  with  the  cardinal  points  very  nearly, 
being  numbered  from  the  river,  and  the  principal  ones  have 
the  Nicolson  pavement.  Most  of  the  others  are  boarded  with 
plank,  four  inches  thick,  of  native  timber,  making  elegant  drives. 
Some  few  of  the  outer  streets  are  yet  unimproved  and  very 
muddy  in  winter.  Although  there  is  not  freeze  enough  to  pro- 
duce deep  mud,  yet  even  when  it  is  not  rainy  it  is  foggy  or 
cloudy,  and  the  surface  is  very  sloppy.  All  the  older  portion 
of  the  city  appears  to  me  quite  beautiful,  with  many  evidences 
of  wealth  and  taste.  There  is  an  unusually  large  number  of 
fine  residences.  The  city  ordinances  for  many  years  have  com- 
pelled the  planting  of  trees  in  front  of  every  lot,  and  all  that 


LOCATION   AND    INHABITANTS.  769 

part  of  town  occupied  by  private  residences  is  yearly  growing 
in  beauty.  As  one  result  of  their  smooth  planked  streets,  ranch 
attention  is  given  to  fine  turn-outs  and  stock,  and  of  pleasant 
afternoons  the  main  avenues  are  quite  lively. 

The  location  is  picturesque.  The  Cascade  Kange  is  visible 
part  of  the  time;  Mount  Hood  rears  its  white  summit  sixty 
miles  to  the  eastward,  but  looking  as  if  it  were  just  out  of  town ; 
while  Mount  St.  Helens  is  often  visible,  though  eighty  miles  to 
the  northeast.  "Pigtails"  are  even  more  numerous  on  all  the 
streets  than  in  "  Frisco,"  and  I  learn  with  surprise  that  one- 
sixth  of  the  population  of  Portland — two  thousand  in  all — are 
Chinamen.  They  are  porters,  washmen,  railroad  laborers, 
cigar-makers,  and  some  few  artisans  of  other  sorts,  but  they  have 
an  unusually  large  number  of  the  higher  castes,  engaged  as 
merchants  and  importers. 

Sam  Poy  Sahong  has  seven  stores  on  this  coast,  his  head- 
quarters being  at  Portland.  Calling  at  his  establishment  one 
evening  I  found  him  posting  his  books  for  the  day,  and  I  can 
pronounce  him  a  rapid  writer  and  intelligent  man. 

The  firm  of  Tung  Duck,  Chung  &  Co.  charter  vessels  and 
import  from  China.  Some  other  Chinese  firms  import  exten- 
sively, and  there  are  several  large  dealers  among  their  mer- 
chants. Other  foreigners  are  not  numerous  ;  I  think  the  Jews 
predominate.  Aside  from  them  there  are  few  Germans,  and  not 
many  French  or  Irish.  In  fact,  Portland  has  almost  an  exclu- 
sive Yankee  population,  as  to  the  whites;  there  are  compara- 
tively few  Western  people  immediately  in  the  city,  though  the 
bulk  of  the  rural  population  is  from  Missouri,  Illinois  and 
neighboring  States.  For  enterprise,  the  city  seems  to  have  that 
which  the  State  at  large  lacks ;  for  I  am  sorry  to  say  my  opinion 
of  rural  Oregon's  enterprise  has  not  at  all  improved  by  longer 
acquaintance. 

The  steamer,  by  which  I  engaged  passage  down  the  coast, 
was  to  start  on  Friday  evening  at  dark ;  but,  going  on  board,  I 
was  informed  that  the  start  was  delayed  till  next  morning,  "to 
get  the  high  tide  on  the  bar  at  the  mouth  of  the  Cohuibia." 
So  my  friends  made  an  evening  of  it  to  see  me  off  properly, 
49 


770  HEM  ED  Y   FOR    SEA-SICKNESS. 

and,  by  way  of  encouragement,  gave  me  their  experience  with 
sea-sickness,  and  a  world  of  good  advice.  All  had  come  to 
Oregon  by  sea,  and  all  had  been  sea-sick ;  but  there  was  one 
little  difficulty  about  their  advice,  no  two  agreed  in  any  par- 
ticular but  one.  Said  number  one :  "  Lie  down  and  stay  there. 
No  need  of  being  sea-sick  as  long  as  you  keep  perfectly  still. 
The  moment  you  sit  up  or  move  about,  you  are  sick.  I  lay  in 
my  berth  all  the  way  from  Frisco." 

"  Bosh,'7  said  number  two,  "  you  stay  on  deck  right  in  the 
cold  air  just  as  long  as  you  can.  The  minute  you  go  below, 
where  you  move  without  seein'  it,  and  the  lamps  and  things 
are  swingin'  around,  you're  a  goner!  Take  your  stand  right 
on  the  bow,  an'  stick  to  it." 

A  grave  and  reverend  senior  thus  pronounced :  "  The  will 
has  more  to  do  with  it  than  you'd  think.  Make  up  your  mind 
you're  not  goin'  to  be  sick,  and  ten  to  one  you  wont." 

A  chorus  of  dissent.  Then  another  recommended  lemons 
and  sherry  wine !  But  all  agreed  on  one  thing :  that  it  was 
best  to  eat  every  meal  one  could,  and  take  plenty  of  air  and 
exercise. 

Having  properly  prepared  my  nerves,  and  emptied  fourteen 
bottles  of  "Bass,"  the  party  of  six  saw  me  aboard,  at  midnight, 
with  the  parting  "  Good-bye,  Jonah,  and  when  you  begin  to 
heave,  think  of  us." 

I  found  on  board  an  "old  salt,"  with  whom  I  had  got 
acquainted  at  the  hotel,  and  his  advice  was:  "Take  half  a 
dozen  limes  in  your  pocket,  eat  one  whenever  you  feel  giddy, 
walk  the  deck  with  me,  and  I'll  insure  you.  Stick  to  the  deck, 
with  a  blanket  and  overcoat,  if  it's  cold,  and  you  can't  get  very 
sick."  This  I  did,  and  found  it  the  best  plan. 

At  daylight,  the  bang  of  a  six-pounder  on  the  bow  aroused 
me  from  dreams  of  shipwreck,  and  pretty  soon  the  "  hoh-he-hoh  " 
of  the  seamen's  chorus,  and  the  rattle  of  lines  and  jingle  of 
bells  announced  that  we  were  off.  The  easy  motion  of  the 
vessel  lulled  me  to  another  nap  of  an  hour,  from  which  I 
awoke  to  find  that  we  were  dead  still — neither  tied  nor 
anchored,  but  swinging  with  the  current,  and  buried  in  a  fog, 


ON    THE   WATER.  771 

so  dense  that  I  had  to  feel  my  way  along  the  berths  to  the 
cabin  door.  We  were  near  the  mouth  of  the  Willamette,  and 
were  to  stay  there  any  time  from  one  to  twenty-four  hours. 
Hour  by  hour  the  fog  slowly  lifted,  drizzle  and  mist  taking  its 
place,  and  chilling  one  to  the  very  bones.  The  cabin  passen- 
gers crowded  around  the  stoves,  while  the  Chinese  and  other 
steerage  passengers  walked  the  deck,  or  crowded  around  the 
smoke-stacks  for  warmth ;  the  melancholy  "  Johns,"  with 
glazed  caps  and  black  pig-tails,  looking  like  a  lot  of  half- 
drowned  crows.  About  2  p.  M.  blue  spots  began  to  appear, 
bright  rays  broke  through  the  gloom,  a  light  wind  was  felt 
from  the  northwest,  and  soon  the  fog  was  sailing  away  in  fleecy 
clouds  toward  the  Cascade  Range.  The  call  of  "  Tickets, 
gents,"  showed  one  man  without  the  pasteboard;  the  davits 
were  loosed,  the  boat  swung  to  the  water,  and  two  hours  more 
were  consumed  in  setting  him  ashore  on  a  point  three  miles 
away.  Moving  down  the  broad  stream — little  to  be  seen  but 
low,  wooded  banks — we  ran  out  into  the  Columbia,  and  were 
soon  surrounded  by  extensive  flocks  of  ducks  and  wild  geese, 
with  occasionally  a  gull  or  Walloon.  But  most  of  them  kept 
out  of  gunshot  from  the  vessel.  I  saw  no  settlements  anywhere 
on  the  Columbia  bottoms,  unless  the  fishermen's  cabins  can  be 
so  called.  Timber  of  medium  size  lines  the  river  everywhere, 
and  very  few  cleared  fields  are  to  be  seen.  By  dark  jve  had 
reached  the  principal  salmon  fisheries,  and  there,  for  some 
reason  to  me  unknown,  the  steamer  stopped  for  the  night, 
probably  to  wait  for  another  high  tide  on  the  bar. 

The  amphibious  race  who  follow  the  calling  of  fisherman  on 
the  lower  Columbia,  might  be  set  down  as  a  separate  variety 
of  our  species.  They  know  all  about  salmon,  and  next  to 
nothing  of  everything  else.  Here  and  next  morning  at  Astoria, 
our  boat  took  on  a  hundred  tons  of  canned  salmon — "no  put- 
up,  at  all,"  the  clerk  said — and  the  figures  given  me  as  to  the 
extent  of  shipments  appear  incredible.  Three  hours'  persistent 
interviewing  of  the  fishermen  developed  these  facts :  The 
salmon  vary  from  five  to  thirty  pounds  in  weight,  twelve 
pounds  being  a  fair  average.  They  are  now  a  standard  luxury 


772  SALMON. 

iu  all  the  markets  of  the  world.  They  begin  to  ascend  the 
river  in  the  spring  rise — May  or  June — and  turn  into  all  the 
tributaries  and  small  creeks,  to  the  highest  point  they  can 
reach.  During  the  "  season "  a  salmon  is  never  found  with 
head  down  stream — "always  bucking  agin  the  current/7  says 
the  natives.  In  many  places  they  get  entangled  among  the 
rocks,  and  some  are  found  worn  almost  smooth  by  their  strug- 
gles. No  instance  is  known  of  one  x>f  these  being  caught  with 
a  hook,  and  from  observation  the  fishermen  are  universally  of 
opinion  that  the  salmon  eat  nothing  during  the  entire  spawn- 
ing season.  The  consequence  is  that  they  get  poorer,  and  the 
meat  whiter,  every  mile  up  stream.  No  Oregonian  will  eat  of 
salmon  caught  above  the  mouth  of  the  Willamette.  When 
they  enter  the  Columbia  the  meat  is  of  a  bright  red  color;  in 
the  Willamette  it  is  of  a  pale  vermilion,  and  at  Oregon  City, 
and  up  at  the  Dalles  almost  white.  The  nearer  the  mouth  of 
the  Columbia,  the  more  valuable  the  fisheries.  When  they 
have  reached  the  highest  point  attainable,  they  spawn  among 
the  gravel  and  on  the  rocks,  where  the  water  is  but  two  or 
three  inches  deep.  Then  they  die  by  thousands,  and  masses 
of  dead  salmon  are  cast  ashore,  or  found  floating  in  the  eddies. 
It  used  to  be  thought  that  all  which  came  up  died  ;  but  the 
fishermen  say  it  is  now  known  that  many  of  the  old  ones  sur- 
vive to  return  to  the  ocean ;  but  they  float  sluggishly  with  the 
current,  keeping  very  low  in  the  water.  Next  year  the  young 
ones  go  out  to  the  ocean  in  vast  schools,  and  occasionally  one 
of  them  is  caught  with  a  hook,  but  not  often.  The  meat  of  the 
salmon  is  poison  to  a  dog.  Their  spawning  grounds  have  been 
found  as  far  as  a  thousand  miles  from  the  sea.  There  is  a 
remarkable  difference  between  various  localities.  At  places 
on  the  Sound,  the  salmon  is  not  fit  to  eat ;  at  others  it  is  infe- 
rior, but  still  palatable.  The  Columbia  takes  precedence  of  all 
points  on  the  coast. 

We  spent  three  hours  at  Astoria,  a  curious  old  town  strung 
along  under  the  wooded  hills,  and  a  party  of  us  walked  out  to 
see  the  first  house  built  in  Oregon — the  old  residence  of  Astor. 
The  place  is  now  of  little  importance  except  for  shipping  salmon. 


"  ETHIOPIAN    WALK- AROUND."  773 

The  call  to  a  late  breakfast  showed  the  fifty  cabin  passengers  all 
on  hand,  each  one  speculating  humorously  as  to  how  many 
would  sit  down  to  the  next  meal ;  for  we  could  already  see  the 
white  foam  on  the  bar,  and  knew  that  a  "  high  sea  was  running 
outside."  The  Columbia  bar  was  long  the  terror  of  navigators, 
but  it  appears  to  have  been  such  only  through  ignorance,  and 
since  proper  soundings  have  been  made,  no  more  accidents  have 
occurred  in  the  last  twenty  years  than  at  the  mouths  of  other 
large  rivers.  We  passed  it  in  an  hour,  without  difficulty,  and 
soon  were  upon  the  "  heaving  ocean,"  of  which  we  read.  It 
was  a  rough  introduction.  The  heaviest  sea  encountered  on 
the  voyage  was  at  the  start.  One  minute  the  bow  appeared  to 
be  rearing  up  to  square  off  at  the  midday  sun,  and  the  next  to 
get  down  and  root  for  something  at  the  bottom  of  the  ocean. 
Bets  were  made  as  to  who  would  be  the  "  first  to  fall,"  and  a 
party  of  twenty  or  more  of  us  went  to  the  hurricane  deck  to 
stand  it  out.  With  songs,  shouts  and  laughter  we  danced  about 
on  unsteady  footing,  attempting  an  "  Ethiopian  walk-around  " 
on  the  heaving  deck,  determined  to  fight  off  the  sickness  to  the 
last  moment.  Then  we  practised  balancing  against  the  waves, 
Watching  the  water  in  the  hollows  of  the  deck,  and  seiain"*  on 

O  O 

the  moment  when  it  started  one  way  to  throw  ourselves  to  the 
opposite.  While  enjoying  this  pastime,  a  lad  of  some  fifteen 
years  suddenly  sank  to  the  deck,  then  rose  and  emptied  his 
stomach  at  one  vast  heave.  Ther.e  was  a  yell  of  laughter  as  he 
started  below,  but  in  a  minute  two  more  followed  suit.  Then 
they  fell  away  rapidly,  and  in  an  hour  only  five  of  us  remained. 
As  I  gazed  on  the  bow,  admiring  the  majestic  sweep  of  its  rise 
and  fall,  and  the  swell  of  the  ocean  beyond,  it  suddenly  appeared 
to  stop;  then  it  stood  dead  still,  and  the  whole  body  of  the 
ocean  appeared  to  rise  and  fall  instead,  and  in  a  moment  my 
head  seemed  to  rise  and  fall  with  it,  leaving  the  bow  between  us 
quite  fixed.  I  had  been  warned  not  to  look  at  the  bow,  but  I 
forgot  it.  I  tried  in  vain  to  restore  the  natural  order,  but 
the  illusion  had  become  to  me  a  reality :  the  bow  was  still,  and 
my  head  and  the  ocean  alone  moved.  At  every  rise  my  neck 
seemed  to  stretch  out  longer,  my  head  get  farther  from  my  body, 


774 


"A    LITTLE   QUALMISH." 


"A   LITTLE   QUALMISH." 

and  soon  I  lost  it  altogether,  or  only  became  conscious  of  it 
by  taking  it  in  my  hand,  when  it  seemed  about  the  size  of  a 
sugar  hogshead.  Then  a  terrible,  creeping,  crawling  sensation 
became  apparent,  extending  down  my  person,  and  I  started 
below.  My  stomach  was  still  quiet,  and  as  soon  as  I  got  to 
the  cabin  my  giddiness  ceased.  The  passengers  were  falling 
on  every  hand,  for  nearly  all  were  "land-lubbers." 

The  crowd  was  a  study :  an  Englishman  and  lady  sat  to- 
gether, holding  each  other  by  the  hand,  bracing  themselves 
firmly  as  if  they  could  resist  the  motion  ;  a  "  fast  young  man  " 
held  his  head  with  a  savage  grip  between  his  hands,  and  looked 
fixedly  in  the  coal-box,  while  the  ladies  one  by  one  appealed  to 
their  companions :  "  Won't  you  please  assist  me  to  the  berth — 
I  feel — ah— just  a  little  qualmish." 

Lunch  was  called  and  half  the  number  went  below.  I  had 
seated  myself  and  got  one  mouthful  of  soup,  when  the  vessel 
gave  an  unusual  heave;  I  felt  the  soup  "coming  back,"  clapped 
iny  hand  to  my  mouth,  and  rushed  on  deck.  But  the  fight  was 


SEA-SICKNESS.  775 

over,  and  I  was  defeated.  The  terrible  mat  de  mer  had  me  in 
spite  of  my  struggles,  and  I  felt  my  way  to  my  room.  Next 
door  to  me  was  a  family  of  four,  making  their  first  trip  away 
from  Oregon.  As  I  passed,  the  little  girl  and  boy  were  lying 
in  the  lower  berth,  with  their  heads  over  a  basin,  moaning  with 
sickness;  the  young  mother  lay  above,  pale  as  the  sheet,  and 
unable  even  to  resist  the  motion  of  the  vessel,  which  tossed  her 
from  side  to  side,  and  the  husband  sat  by  trying  to  cheer  them, 
while  the  dark  bile  swelled  up  in  his  cheeks  and  his  eye 
showed  the  composure  of  despair.  I  could  not  repress  a 
sickly  smile,  for  they  had  been  the  most  hilarious  of  our  party 
on  deck. 

From  the  gentlemen's  berths  came  a  mixed  sound  of  curses, 
groans  and  regurgitations.  One  enormous  fat  old  fellow  was 
crying  like  a  baby,  and  finally  called  out  in  despair:  "O — o — o 
I  can't  stand  this ;  won't  some  Christian  throw  me  over- 
board." My  sailor  friend,  who  was  standing  at  my  door  to 
encourage  me,  promptly  made  reply  :  "  Well,  I  ain't  much 
of  a  Christian,  but  if  it's  any  accommodation,  I'll  chuck  ye 
overboard." 

My  sickness  lasted  for  three  hours,  then  a  most  delightful 
calm  succeeded,  followed  by  a  long  sweet  sleep.  I  learned  a 
new  fact,  to  me:  there  are  really  two  kinds  of  sea-sickness;  one 
begins  in  the  head,  the  other  in  the  stomach,  and  a  man  may 
have  either  or  both.  The  latter,  I  am  convinced,  is  simply  a 
reversal  of  the  peristaltic  motion  of  the  stomach  and  bowels. 
In  the  long  swells  as  the  boat  rises  one  feels  perfectly  delightful ; 
the  "insides"  settle  down,  down,  down,  and  are  at  rest.  But 
as  the  boat  sinks  all  the  internal  viscera  rise — as  one  passenger 
expressed  it,  "you  fall  away  from  your  grub" — they  press  even 
against  the  throat,  producing  a  fearful  and  indescribable  nausea. 
There  is  nothing  I  can  compare  it  to.  Even  now  the  recol- 
lection makes  me  shudder.  And  one  may  have  this  kind  of 
sea-sickness  without  being  a  particle  giddy.  But  the  other  kind 
begins  in  the  head ;  it  is  the  result  of  the  eye  having  nothing 
fixed  or  solid  to  rest  upon.  Everything  one  looks  at  is  moving 
— the  boat,  the  lamps,  the  waves  are  so  many  sources  of  irrita- 


776 


GOOD    ADVICE. 


POINT  ARENA  LIGHTHOUSE— COAST  OF   CALIFORNIA. 

tion  to  the  optic  nerve  and  brain.  Nothing  is  fixed.  All  one's 
notions  of  security  are  unsettled.  In  a  whirling  swing  or  stage- 
coach, where  some  people  are  affected,  one  can  never  be  entirely 
lost,  for  there  is  the  "  sure  and  firm-set  earth  "  to  come  back 
upon  as  a  solid  basis ;  but  on  the  ocean  that  last  resource  is 
lacking,  and  the  eye  and  brain  are  hopelessly  deranged.  Thence, 
by  sympathy  merely,  the  derangement  spreads  to  the  stomach ; 
the  affection  of  that  is  only  secondary.  This  last  was  the  kind 
of  sea-sickness  I  had,  with  but  little  of  the  other.  Hence  as 
soon  as  I  lay  down  and  shut  my  eyes,  I  began  to  recover.  And 
for  such  cases  that  advice  is  good.  But  for  those  whose  sick- 


THE  SEA   CALM. 


777 


BANCROFT'S  GREAT  PUBLISHING  HOUSE— SAN  FRANCISCO. 

ness  begins  at  the  stomach  there  is  no  such  hope ;  they  must 
suffer  it  through. 

Next  morning  the  sea  was  calm,  the  boat  was  "running 
nearly  on  an  even  keel,"  and  the  rest  of  the  voyage  was  delight- 
ful. Our  third  day  on  the  ocean,  the  table  was  full  again  and 
everybody  jolly.  So  I  stick  to  my  original  conclusion  :  Take  a 
day's  sea-sickness  on  the  way  to  Oregon,  rather  than  go  by  stage. 

There  is  another  argument  in  favor  of  this  route.  The 
fare  from  "  Frisco "  to  Portland  is  only  $25.00,  while  from 
Sacramento  there  by  land  is  $45.00,  both  in  gold. 


778  OVER   THE   PACIFIC   RAILROAD   AGAIN. 

The  second  night  we  saw  from  afar  the  glowing  summit  of 
Point  Arena  Lighthouse — a  sublime  sight  from  a  distance 
upon  the  ocean.  Next  night,  soon  after  dark,  we  passed  the 
Golden  Gate,  and  at  daylight  I  was  delighted  to  find  myself  once 
more  on  terra  firma. 

No  "  Life  on  the  ocean  wave "  for  me,  if  you  please.  My 
first  trip  has  convinced  me  that  I  haven't  the  head  for  life  on 
the  Atlantic ;  for  what  we  saw  on  the  Pacific  is  a  mere  nothing. 
Solid  ground  is  good  enough  for  me. 

San  Francisco  showed  great  improvement  since  I  had  first 
seen  it  three  years  before ;  but  my  walks  were  mostly  among  the 
publishing  houses,  of  which  the  city  has  an  extensive  supply. 
A  quarter  of  a  century  since,  a  dull  and  sleepy  Mexican  mis- 
sion adorned  (?)  this  row  of  sandhills;  now  a  city  of  nearly  two 
hundred  thousand,  is  supplied  by  six  daily  papers,  half  a  dozen 
periodicals,  and  several  large  publishing  houses.  That  of  A- 
L.  Bancroft  &  Co.,  established  in  1852,  now  equals  any  in 
the  Eastern  States.  Almost  everything  in  that  line  which  is 
peculiarly  Californian  bears  their  imprint.  In  law  books  par- 
ticularly, and  other  work  usually  confined  to  a  few  houses  in 
the  East,  they  have  shown  great  enterprise.  Besides  their 
original  works,  several  hundred  thousand  volumes  of  Eastern 
books  have  been  sold  by  them  on  the  Pacific  Coast.  Their 
fine  building  on  Market  Street  is  an  enduring  monument  to 
the  general  intelligence  and  love  of  literature  of  the  people  of 
California. 

To  leave  the  mild  air  of  "Frisco"  for  the  snows  of  the 
mountains  was  anything  but  agreeable;  but  there  were  rumors 
of  impending  snow  blockades ;  important  business  called  me  to 
Indiana,  and  I  took  a  hasty  departure  from  the  Far  West. 

To  close  happily,  every  book  should  have  a  hero ;  but  this 
has  none,  unless  the  author  may  by  courtesy  be  permitted  to  fill 
that  position.  Suffice  it  then  to  say,  that  seven  days'  riding 
from  San  Francisco  brought  me  again  to  my  native  Hoosier- 
dom,  vastly  improved  in  health  by  my  five  years  of  Western 
travel. 

THE   END. 


U.C.  BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


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